Felix Minor
by Thikit
Summary: UPDATED! Nine years ago Draco left. Ginny loved him, but made herself move on. Then, a strange encounter with an old friend reveals where Draco is. Will Ginny go after him? Will he still want her? And what will happen when Draco finds out he's a father?
1. Where you are, is where I wanna be

PROLOGUE

It had been nine years since that summer, nine years without hearing his voice, feeling his touch or seeing his face. Nine cold years had the summer sun chilled her to the bone and the merry songs of birds ceased where she tread. Though her body lived, something inside of her had died, he had left a gaping hole where she had loved him, and he had taken her reason for living with him when he left.

She had begged him, pleaded and importuned him to stay and fight, but he had left her alone and cold, as though she'd never to feel warmth again.

Or that's what she thought.

Two agonizing months after Draco's disappearance she had found something that filled the cavernous hole he had carved in her. The thing that made her push onward, the only thing she could depend on and love with all her heart. It was the only piece of him he had left with her. She cherished it and cared for it like nothing she ever had before because it was her last hope, her last tie to him. Maybe if he knew, he would come back to her and this little treasure.

Because unbeknownst to him, Draco Malfoy had a son.

CHAPTER ONE

"Felix Marcellus Malfoy-Weasely! Get down here this instant!" Ginny Weasely fumed as she surveyed the once clean kitchen now destroyed by the effervescent nine-year old boy. She had been five minutes in the shower and already he had caused chaos to erupt in the middle of their small flat.

There were pots and pans, metal spoons and spatulas in the middle of the floor, Muggle crayons, whole and broken, were piled by the now very colorful cabinets, chocolate frogs leapt about, little chess men ran here and there hacking each other to pieces regardless of their color, every few seconds the deck of exploding snap cards gave a feeble _pop_ and Ginny stood in the middle of it massaging her aching head.

A tiny silver haired boy poked his head cautiously around the corner surveying his mother's annoyance before sheepishly stepping over a knight battling a charging chocolate frog and showing himself. He looked up into her brown eyes with his silver ones and put on his best innocent face.

"Yes, mummy?" Ginny crossed her arms trying her hardest to look stern and angry, but the wide gray eyes and pouting mouth was almost too much for her. How could she stay angry with a boy that looked so much like her Draco? Felix could have been a clone of Draco if it wasn't for the freckles strewn across the bridge of his round little Weasely nose.

"Don't 'yes mummy' me. You know exactly why I called you down here, look at all of this!" She said gesturing to the chaotic mess. "How did you manage to turn this kitchen into a war zone in less than five minutes?" She cried.

"I was bored," he muttered as he scuffed his foot against the tile floor refusing to meet his mother's eyes. "I just…I wanted to play like all the other kids." At his soft abashed words she softened and knelt talking the small boy into her arms and brushing his long hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, my little luck," she soothed. She had called him this ever since he was growing inside of her because he was her lucky child, without him or Draco she would have become a soulless shell. That's one reason she named him Felix, it meant luck. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Not punish me?" He said hopefully snuggling into her dressing gown. She had to suppress a giggle.

"You can't get away with it that easily young man. I know it's hard for you to make friends, but I bet there's a little boy or girl out there wishing they had a friend just like you." She kissed his forehead, "But next time you want to play, try not to give mummy a heart attack." She said ruffling his hair. "Lets see, for your punishment you can clean this mess then take a bath and go to bed without a fuss for the next week." Felix's mouth dropped open in protest but she gave him a stern look and he snapped it shut grumpily. Pouting he began to clean his mess.

Ginny finished getting dressed which proved slightly difficult while keeping one eye on Felix and she had to re-button her shirt three times before getting the alignment right. She pulled on worn jeans that she had cut into knee length shorts and a pair of tattered brown sandals, it was summer after all, her least favorite time of year.

When she was finished she came out of her cramped room and inspected her son's work. He was going dreadfully slow just to irk her, but he was cleaning even if it was at the pace of a snail.

She stood in the doorway to the kitchen just watching Felix as she did sometimes. He looked so much like his father He had the same aristocratic features, high cheekbones, thin lips, silver hair and gray eyes. He had inherited only three physical features from Ginny, her freckles, the slightly upturned button nose and the sparkle in his eyes. Where Draco's was cold and distant at times, Felix's was always alight with mirth, like everything had a hidden joke that only he knew the punch line to.

Sighing she moved away from the kitchen and went into the drawing room. She mechanically moved towards the small oak desk by the open window, a small summer breeze stirred the parchment on the writing table causing some to lazily drift to the floor.

She picked up one piece that had landed by her feet and read the contents, smiling inwardly. It was an invitation to Wendy's, Harry's daughter, birthday party that Saturday.

She was turning four and was so proud to add another finger to her age. Hermione, Harry's wife, was pregnant with twin boys and needed all the help she could get, so Ginny had agreed to oversee all festivity preparations along with Harry.

"I'm done, mummy. What's for dinner?" Ginny couldn't hold back her giggles this time as she looked at Felix's mercury pools emanating careful curiosity. He had chocolate splattered all down his green jumper and little black blotches on his face where the exploding snap cards much have discharged on him.

"How 'bout we go out to eat? How does the Dancing Werewolf sound?" She took his whoop of joy as an agreement.

* * *

The Dancing Werewolf was an inn like the Leaky Cauldron, but newer and just down the street from their flat. As they entered they were met with a rush of sound: music, laughter and the chattering of people as they enjoyed each other's company.

Felix pulled her anxiously towards an empty table- well; more like a round slab of wood cut roughly from a tree- and sat on one of the rickety stools. Ginny sat and listened to Felix as he enthusiastically told about a dream he had the previous night.

"…and your ugly! I said to the vampire 'cause I wasn't scared like he thought I was and then I pulled out my sword and hacked him to pieces, I used a sword cause I'm not old enough to use magic! But then, the floor collapsed and I fell into the ocean and there were mermaids and I turned into one swam with dolphins and fishies, but then a shark came and I beat him up too! And…and it was so cool." He finally took a breath and gave Ginny an elated smile, "Is Hogwarts like that, mummy?"

"Better because there you learn how to use magic, my pretty!" She said in a cackling voice waggling her fingers and scrunching her nose like the witch she saw in that one Muggle movie, The Wizard of- something. Felix broke into gales of laughter as she ticked his sides and wheezed out, "You're so weird!"

Finally their food came and Felix proclaimed loudly in a broken Transylvanian accent, "Where is my blooood, I asked for blooood." This earned a scolding, but amused look from Ginny and a blank stare from their server.

"A negative or O positive?" She asked in a slightly nasally voice and Felix burst into more laughter.

"I was kidding!" He said between thumps of his hand on the table. The server just shook her head and walked off mumbling something that sounded like "undisciplined" and "brat." It was all Ginny could do to not whip out her wand and hex the brunette into oblivion.

"Felix Marcellus, you know better than that." He quieted enough to eat his dinner, but ten minutes later he leaned over the table and whispered, "That man over there has been staring at us for like and hour and its kind of creepy, Mummy."

Ginny slowly, and what she thought as slyly, turned around to catch a glimpse of this mystery observer. He was in a far corner, shrouded in darkness from lack of lighting and a hood. The only distinguishing feature she could see was a few strands of long dark hair protruding out from under the hood. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she could feel then boring into her making her stomach clench.

"Felix, love, why don't you go to the play room while Mummy goes any talks to the nice man." Felix nodded his compliance and bounced away. Ginny stood and straightened out her robes flicking away imaginary lint and calmly strode over to the hooded man.

She towered over his sitting form and spoke in a low threatening voice.

"I don't know who you are or why you're staring at us but I would warn you now to leave us alone and never show your hooded face around my family again." She thought the man might look up at her or at least get up and leave spluttering apologies, but what she didn't expect was for the man to chuckle softly and pull back his hood.

"Ginny Weasely, I've been looking for you for quite some time. Still got that spit fire personality I see." He looked up at her and she saw his sapphire eyes and black long hair as he pulled off his hood in one sweeping movement.

"Blaise Zabini?" Try as she might she couldn't stop the surprise from being evident in her voice and on her face. "I haven't seen you in nearly seven years, why are you here." She said icily.

"Please, have a seat. I would like to speak to you without drawing unwanted attention." He gestured to the empty seat adjacent to him and frowned in thought as she sat stonily.

"I am not going to harm you so don't look so guarded. You know me, Gin and you know I could never hurt you." She shot him a look that could have curdled milk. Why was he here now? He hadn't been there seven years ago, when she needed him most and now, when things were starting to go well, he shows up, bringing back a part of her life that she had buried long ago. He hadn't answered her question and if it had been anyone but Blaise she would have been suspicious. The raven-haired Slytherin had a knack for avoiding questions and topics he didn't want to discuss and due to his reputation not many pressed it. But she could care less about his sodding reputation.

"Why are you here." She said, determined to get an answer. He finally met her eyes and what she saw shocked her. His once mischievous and sultry eyes were now lined with worry and fatigue, in one moment they looked lost and cornered the next cold and reclusive, so much like Draco's had been.

"It's been so long, Gin," his voice almost cracked before he cleared it reaching for her hand across the table, "I have so much to say and I fear I don't have much time." He glared at the occupants of the nearby tables as if daring them to eavesdrop. His hand finally met hers and she recoiled from his arctic touch. She felt all the resentment, hurt and longing she felt towards Draco begin to bubble and boil to the surface. All the times she had cursed him for leaving, all the times she had cried herself to sleep wishing in vain that she would awake from this nightmare to find him sleeping next to her, all came spilling out onto Blaise.

"You don't have much time? It's been almost nine bloody years and _you_ don't have the _time_? May I remind you that you're the one who sought me out so that means I get the privilege of deciding how much time we have." She dug her nail into the soft skin of her palm and felt blood, "Where were you when I needed you most? Where was Draco? Friends don't leave friends in their most dire times of need. I was pregnant- _pregnant-_ and the moment I told you, you disappeared. I know why _he_ left, but as far as I'm concerned you died the day you walked away."

As she progressed through her tirade, a speech that expressed feelings that had lane dormant for nine years, Blaise's face remained neutral with his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes flashing regret.

"Gin I-I didn't mean- I'm so sorry." He looked down, examining the pattern the wood made in the table. "Please, hear what I have to say. Can't we just get past this and be friends again?" His eyes were so pleading that Ginny almost sighed in resignation. She wanted to pound her fists into his chest, slap the indifference off his face ask him why he had left, why Draco left. Instead she stared at him, mercilessly willing herself to stay calm and not to scream, cry and hit him.

"Friends?" She spat, "What would you know about being friends. You have one minute to talk. Go." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back waiting skeptically. He took a deep breath and then spoke five fatal words.

"I know where Draco is."

* * *

"Mummy? Wake up." Ginny drifted through the darkness to the ray of light that was Felix's voice.

"Mmm, what happened?" She was lying on her side and in order to sit up she had to roll over on her back, causing a sharp stab of pain to be sent through her scalp where she had hit her head on the ground. She was lying on the butterbeer-coated floor of the Dancing Werewolf, robes tangles around her legs and Blaise kneeling beside her.

"You fainted." Blaise said close to her ear as he helped her shakily to her feet. _How did I end up here?_ Then his voice echoed though her head.

_**I know where Draco is…**_

_Where Draco is…_

_Draco…_

She shook off Blaise's helping hand and turned to face him abruptly, making her head spin, she felt his hand steadying her, but before she could shake him off again or say anything he thrust something into her hand and whispered "Noon, tomorrow." Then he turned on his heals and was gone.

"Mummy," she felt a tugging at her shirt, "Who was that man?" Ginny looked down at her son and smiled.

"That was one of my old friends from school, that's all. Do you want some dessert?" Felix nodded vigorously and grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her toward the small ice cream bar in the back of the inn.

"Two strawberry ice creams, please." Felix's head didn't quite reach the counter and he had to stand on his tiptoes to see the clerk. "And make it snappy!" He said, trying to sound authoritative.

"Felix, mind your manners." Ginny said absently. She opened her hand revealing what Blaise had left inside it and found a white business card. It had one line of writing printed on it in loopy metallic blue text.

_**538 N. 2nd Street **_

She frowned. Should she go? Part of her thought she should stand him up just out of spite, but that part was strongly overpowered by her curiosity and hope that maybe Draco had finally been found.

Felix handed her a melting cone of pink ice cream while he was already licking furiously at his own.

Some how she made it home without falling over. The pain in the back of her head was almost alarming. She went into her room and took her wand out of her pocket to inspect the wound. It turned out to be a small cut that only needed a minor charm and some Tylenol.

Felix stayed true to his word and didn't fuss while she gave him a bath and put him to bed, all the while chattering about vampires, the mysterious man and Wendy's party the following week.

"Little luck?" She said as she tucked him in with his stuffed lion, Shaggy.

"Hmm?" He muttered sleepily.

"How would you like to go to Uncle Ron's tomorrow?"

"Mm'k" Was the only response she got as he rolled over and squeezed Shaggy. She closed the door with a soft click and walked lightly into the drawing room, kneeling in front of the fireplace. Taking a small handful of floo powder she flung it into the dying flames.

"The Burrow." She said as the flames turned green and stuck her head in.

"Ron?" She called into the empty sitting room. "Ron!" She heard footfalls from the kitchen, a loud bang, swearing then finally her brother's face appeared before the fire, rubbing his nose.

"Lousy owl." He muttered, and then finally noticing her said, "Gin? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Ron. Can't I floo my brother without it being an emergency?" She asked innocently.

"Yea, you could, but you haven't yet. So what do ya need?" He said checking his hand for blood.

"What happened? Run into the doorframe? I'm telling you, if you grow any more you won't fit into the house."

"Har, har, very funny. No I did not run into the doorframe, Pig just got excited hearing your voice and ran into my face. No depth perception that bird. And you're avoiding the question, I swear if you weren't my sister I'd think you were a Slytherin, the way you do that." Ginny rolled her eyes and plunged on.

"I was just wondering if Felix could visit his _favorite_ uncle tomorrow. That's all."

"Oh, now I'm his favorite, huh? When did this happen? When _Harry_ said he couldn't watch him?" He said scornfully.

"Oh, Ron. When are you going to forgive Harry? It's been almost five years."

"I'll forgive him when I get to steal _his_ girlfriend and get her pregnant." Ginny was silent for a moment while Ron stared at the ground clenching his jaw. "Yea, I'll watch Felix while you go do whatever you do."

"Thanks Ron. And you were the first person I asked to watch him, promise. Good night." She pulled her head out of the flames and sat back on her heals. Poor Ron, she thought for the millionth time. But she shouldn't be the one talking to him about forgiveness when she herself still hadn't forgiven Draco.

Draco.

Did Blaise really know where he was? Did Ginny really want to know? What would she do when she found him, if she found him?

_I'll deal with it tomorrow_, she said and forced herself to go to bed.

* * *

Staring up at an abandoned warehouse in the worst part of town she felt he stomach start to clench up again. Taking another deep breath she pushed open the rusty door and walked into a dark room that smelled like rancid fish. Gagging she put a gloved hand to her mouth and pulled her wand out with the other.

"Lumos." She said, the words slightly muffled in her black leather gloves. The light bounced off the metal walls showing a figure cloaked in blue off in the right corner. He took his hood off just enough for her to know it was Blaise. He gestured for her to follow then turned and vanished through a wall. Running to catch up she reached the corner to find a hidden stairway going downwards. She descended after Blaise.

The walls were close and the stairs were narrow, but finally they reached a gleaming iron door with no knob. Blaise stood before it, waiting for her. When he saw her he put his hand on the door and it vanished revealing a large room. Entering the room she noticed immediately that the fishy smell was gone and the walls were stone, not rust covered metal. Upon closer inspection, she noticed a desk covered in parchment, small sconces that lit the room, a lumpy red chair in front of the desk and a latter back one behind, a file cabinet and an owl.

"Your office? Interesting location, pick it yourself?" He didn't answer, just took off his cloak and tossed it on the back of the wooden chair behind the desk then sat. He gestured for her to sit also. "Can't speak either? What a pity."

"You know why Draco left." He said bluntly. Taken slightly aback she just stared for a moment.

"Yes, he told me why he thought he should leave. But I never agreed with him. You know that. That's one reason I came to you, to convince him to stay and fight."

"If he stayed the Deatheathers would have killed him, you and your unborn child." She shook her head. She didn't want to have this argument again.

"You said you knew where he was." Blaise shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, more or less. You see, I have been trying track him down for the last nine years and I finally have a lead that might mean something. I thought you should be the first to know." Ginny felt her heart sink to her toes.

A lead, not a definite answer.

"I, uh, appreciate it. Thanks." She said weakly. "But why all the secrecy?"

"People out there still want him dead, I couldn't take any chance. Do you want to know the lead? It's a good one; actually it's the best I've ever had. I would call it something more than a lead though, that's why I told you I knew where he was." She nodded, afraid if she spoke her voice would break. He took out a worn folder from beneath a pile of parchment and pulled out a picture. He handed it to her.

It was of a man in a tattered dark blue cap with a large brim in the front and some kind of white "NY" logo. He had black matted hair, dark skin and a nose that looked as if it had been broken a few times and never properly fixed. He was buying a hot dog from a roadside vendor. In the picture he was handing the vendor money with one hand and taking a hot dog with the other then walking away.

"So what?" She asked uninterestedly.

"Look at his middle finger of the hand giving the guy the money." Blaise said with a small smile. Ginny looked closer and let out a small gasp. On the middle finger of the hand giving the guy money was undeniably the Malfoy signet ring. This was big. If it was any other ring it wouldn't have mattered, but the Malfoy ring could only be removed willingly by the person wearing it and Draco would rather be Avada Kedavra'd than take that ring off. Even if the person died, the ring still couldn't be taken off. This person had to be Draco.

"Where was this picture taken?" She said looking up. He shifted again, looking even more uncomfortable.

"Well, you see…I, uh…don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" She yelled angrily.

"The guy who took the picture was killed right after he owled this to me. I don't know where this picture was taken. But there are a few clues. In the other pictures he sent, there are landmarks, things that might tell us where he is. Here, look. Maybe you'll know." Ginny took the rest of the folder and set it in her lap.

"Can I take these home to look at?" Blaise nodded.

"Just disguise them, alright? Don't want any unnecessary attention." His eyes darted about warily.

"I will, thank you again." She stood and made for the door.

"Hey Ginny," She turned, "It was nice seeing you again." He stood and walked over to her and gave her a small hug. "Here is my address, in case you want to talk or something." He handed he another business card.

"You live in muggle London?" She asked reading the card.

"Low profile, you know?" She nodded, gave him a small smile and left.


	2. I finally found my way to you

"Well, it's hard to pin point his exact location just by looking at these pictures, but I'll try my best. Lets start with the obvious, shall we?" Hermione said examining the pictures.

The next morning Ginny had gotten Felix ready as quickly as possible and rushed over to Harry and Hermione's, since she already promised she'd help with the party she had a perfect reason for just stopping by. Felix loved the chance to play with Uncle Harry so he came along eagerly, even if he and Wendy didn't get along too famously.

"Ok, the obvious, like what? Landmarks?" Ginny asked leaning over Hermione's shoulder for a better look.

"No, even easier, his disguise. If he wanted to blend into society, look like a native of wherever he was living he would try to look like the people born there. He has black hair and dark skin, he also bulked out some of his more distinguishing features like his nose and chin. This eliminates quite a lot of places. We know he's not in America, Canada, Northern Europe, Russia, The Orient or Australia, but that still leaves a lot of places he could be. He could be in South America, Africa, Southern Europe, or the East Arabic Nations." She sighed and looked up at her long time friend.

"Ok, we started with the obvious, but we don't have to end there. Keep going, there has to be more than just that in the picture." Ginny said hopefully.

"Alright, lets see here." She stared at each picture in turn for quite a long time before settling on the one she started on, with him at the hot dog stand. "For one thing, this is not a hot dog stand, in fact it is not a stand at all, but an open air market. See the piece of food? No meat in the middle, just some stuffing coming out if the ends. I'll do more research and find out what exactly it is. That will help. Also, look at the over hang," she said pointing at the picture, "the first language on there is Arabic, then English and French. That eliminates South America, Southern Europe and most of Africa. He's in the Arabic Nations" Hermione looked up at Ginny triumphantly. Ginny just continued to stare at the picture.

"I know what that food is. I can't believe how stupid I am!" Ginny said, rebuking herself. "That's ta'miyya, a type of bread called aysh is rolled and stuffed with beans, eggs, other spices and things and usually eaten at breakfast, they serve it in open air markets in only one place, Egypt." Hermione stared. "What?" Ginny said, "Don't you remember Felix's Egyptian stage three years ago? He'd only eat authentic Egyptian foods. Thank you Felix!" Hermione closed her mouth and smiled approvingly.

"Well, that makes things a bit easier. Anything else you noticed that I didn't?"

"Yea actually, look at what they are called. On the overhang the vendor calls them ta'miyya."

"And?"

"They are called ta'miyya in Cairo and falaafil in Alexandria. Felix used to get so mad at me for mixing that up." Ginny smirked at the once more shocked look from Hermione, which made her eyes go even wider.

"You look so much like him when you do that, Gin." Hermione said softly. Ginny wiped the smirk off her face immediately. They sat awkwardly for a few minutes.

"Ginny, do you just realize that you figured out where Draco is?" Ginny looked up into her friends deep brown eyes and tears started to cloud her vision. She wiped at them furiously.

"Oh, Ginny. I'm so happy-"

"Happy? How can you be happy? I know where he is! Now I have no excuse not to see him. Mione, I'm afraid of what will happen when I see him. What if he doesn't want me, maybe that's really why he's stayed away? What if I get so angry I hurt him or kill him or what if-"

"Shhh, Gin." She soothed, drawing her into a hug, "Don't play the 'what-if' game, it always sucks. Just do whatever you have to do; I won't tell anyone that you know where he is if that'll help. I promise." They sat there, the redheaded woman crying openly in the older girls arms while she whispered comforting things and a hand stroked her fiery hair.

--

Draco turned the key in the lock, jiggling and twisting it until finally he heard a small click. Balancing the two paper bags on his hip he pushed the door open with his shoulder and flicked on the light with his elbow. Placing the bags on the kitchen counter he began putting the items into their proper places: milk in the fridge, bread in the breadbox, and a few other unimportant condiments away in the cabinets. He folded the bags carefully so as not to rip them and placed them between the fridge and the counter, then picked up his book and wandered out into the drawing room and plopped unceremoniously onto the moth eaten sofa.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Nine years since he had left and so far he had lived in thirteen different locations, he had only been in Cairo now for about three weeks and was already thinking about leaving within the next month or so.

He stood and walked over to the mirror above the small fireplace and examined his appearance. His greasy black hair sickened him and his dark skin shocked him every time he caught a glimpse of himself in a window or puddle. The only thing the same was his mercury eyes. She had always loved his eyes.

He reached up and pulled off the black wig revealing silver locks and with his sleeve he wiped away some of the brown make-up. He didn't dare use any magic, not when there was a chance that they were still looking. He placed his forefinger and thumb on opposite sides of his nose and wiggled until the glue came lose and pulled the prosthetic nose away. He usually only took off his disguise when in the bathroom, where there was no window, but frankly he just didn't care anymore.

He had always been cautious for her sake, but be was tired of it all, he was sick of being so alone all the time. He couldn't make any friends, not like he enjoyed socializing with muggles, and he never dated, how could he betray her like that? He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a tattered old picture. The only one he dared have of her. She was smiling and waving at him, her fiery tresses moving slightly as a breeze stirred them. She had a rose in the other hand, one he had given her from his garden. She said she would keep it forever, every time he looked at the picture he wondered if she still had it. Probably not, she was probably married by now and had forgotten all about their summer romance.

But he never would.

He put the picture back close to his heart and turned to survey his small flat. The walls were cracked and the paint was chipped, the pipes groaned and clinked every time he turned on a water fixture and the bed was more of a cot then a mattress. The kitchen consisted of a small icebox and a tiny freezer, a stove that was made in 1900 and still used wood to heat it up and a small rusty metal sink in the far corner that constantly dripped brown water. But at least he had a roof over his head.

He had been in worse, much worse. When he lived in New York he stayed in community housing and actually had to share a bathroom and a bedroom with ten other men. He shuttered at the memory. If he ever got his hands on the men who wanted him killed he would make them pay for forcing him to live like this.

Then there was a knock at his door. He froze. Why would anyone come here? He didn't know anyone. The knock came again and this time a voice accompanied it.

"Landlord! Your rent it late again Mr. Asar!" Draco wasn't that stupid, his Landlord did not speak English and never made room calls. Draco quickly grabbed his wig and made for the window, but before he could make it out there was a loud crash as the door broke down and five burly men almost fell into the now crowded sitting room. Draco unlocked the dirty window while kicking over a wooden chair to block the men's path.

Finally he got the window open, all the while reaching into his pockets and retreating some Exploding Fluid he had brewed years ago just in case. He threw the bottle right in front of the charging men smashing it and causing a resonating boom as the roof fell in. Draco just barely made it out in time as a large beam crashed to the floor right where his leg had been.

He inched along the ledge until he reached the corner of the building where he looked down to see a wide overhang from the street vendors carts and leapt. He had picked his apartment mainly because of its quick escape route. Luckily his weight didn't tear the cloth, it only sagged enough for him to jump off and vanish into the crowd of Cairo, jamming the wig over his silver hair.

--

"When is the next flight to Australia?" Draco asked the blonde travel agent at the desk of the Cairo International Airport. He had hidden for two days on the streets and then another week in a hotel under the alias of Muhammad. All right, so he didn't have much time to think of a new name, but the name was a common one in Egypt so it hid him well. He even paid the manager extra to make it look like he had lived there for three months.

"In one month, sorry, Sir, but this is the most popular time of the year for travel. Everything is booked solid." Draco sighed.

"Money is no object." He paused waiting for a reaction, when none came he cleared his throat and continued, "Look, I'll take any flight to anywhere, whatever is your soonest."

"The only thing we've got is a one way to London for next week." She said, popping her gum.

"London." He mumbled quietly, fingering his breast pocket.

"Yea, you know, England?"

"Yes, I see. Could you please keep me informed if anyone should cancel any other flight? Here is my phone number and a little something for you." He slid a piece of paper with his number on it along with a fifty-pound note. He winked, she blushed and flipped her hair, and inside he cringed.

As he stood up he saw a woman with deep red curls just leave the building, He stared for a moment before running after her. He knew it was crazy, but every time he saw a red haired woman he always had to know if it was her. The crowd swallowed her tiny form, but still he perused. Could she have found him? Secretly he had hoped that she or someone was looking and that one-day they would take him away from this life of hiding. Finally she stopped and stooped to pick something up. When she stood, she had a child in her arm.

No, this was not his Ginny.

The boy had to be almost ten years old, too old for him to have been conceived after he had left. Plus, he was wearing a muggle baseball cap not unlike his own, something Ginny definitely didn't have. The boy reached an arm up to hold his little hat to his head as a gust of wind blew, making the woman's hair dance. He just stared, pretending like it was his Ginny.

--

"Felix, let mummy carry you, the crowd is very large and I would hate to lose you in it." Ginny looked around at the pushing and pulling people of Cairo, all trying to go somewhere or do something. Is Draco here somewhere?

She had left a week after finding out where Draco was. It had taken her that long to find Blaise and tell him what she had discovered, then as soon as he knew, she was off. She caught the earliest flight the next morning since all the floo networks in Egypt were closed for maintenance and Felix was too young for her to apparate with. They had just landed a little while ago and were now making their way to the Hotel.

She bent and picked up her little luck as a gust of wind blew by.

"Hold on to your cap now, love." Ginny told Felix, as his hand reached up to hold down his little hat.

"Why do I have to wear this stupid thing anyways?" Felix complained.

"To blend in, so we look like muggles." She said whispering the last word as her eyes darted about. The little hairs on the back of her neck went up. Some one was watching them. Casually she turned to a street side vendor, pretending she was interested in the cheap necklaces all the while looking up and down the streets. She didn't see anyone but bustling crowds, no one was interested in her except the merchant of the necklaces she was browsing at.

She shook it off as nerves, said a polite "no thank you," and started walking to their hotel again, The Hotel Horus House. The cheapest, but still clean, hotel in Cairo.

About half way there, she felt eyes on her back again and decided to walk a bit faster. It was starting to get dark out and she did not want to be caught on the streets at night, especially with Felix. As she sped up she heard multiple footfalls coming closer, she reached into her pocket to find that her wand was missing. She must have dropped it somewhere between here and the airport, she swore.

"Mummy? What's wrong?" Felix asked in reply to her foul language.

"Felix, love, if I ask you to do something that might seem a bit weird, will you promise me you'll do it without asking questions?" Felix heard the urgency in her voice and nodded his compliance. Getting a little scared, he buried his head in his mothers shoulder and squeezed his arms around her neck even tighter.

Ginny could see the Hotel down the twisting cobble stone road and started to run, the heals of her shoes making a soft clicking sound as they made contact with the street. That's when she noticed the streets were nearly empty, except for a few wayward citizens, they were the only ones out this late at night. There were thuds of boots behind her, four pairs if her trained ear was correct, and judging by the heavy thuds they were making they were particularly large men.

Ginny looked frantically for somewhere to hide, an alcove, an open shop, anything! But it was getting late into the evening and all the shops were closed and the allies were blocked by merchant carts. Then suddenly a dark figure darted out in front of her, where he had come from she couldn't say, but her motherly instincts took over.

With one arm firmly hold Felix to her body she flung the other out to connect with the man's head making a sickening crack as it bashed his nose up at a forty-five degree angle. Thanks to her years of self-defense training she knew the exact places to hit to make a grown man crumple in pain.

The other three men behind her were gaining; they weren't carrying a child that weighed almost four stones. Then an insane idea came to her.

"Felix, when I tell you to, run as fast as you can to the Hotel and don't stop, no matter what, even if you think I'm in trouble, when you get to the Hotel have the men call the authorities and then wait for me there." She instructed breathlessly.

"Ok, mum." Felix tried to be as brave as he could, like his mum, but in truth, he was frightened out of his mind. _This is no time to be an ickle scaredy-kin as Uncles Fred and George put it. _So he mustered up every ounce of courage he had and prepared himself to run the fastest he had ever run before.

Ginny, too, was preparing herself as a distraction. As Felix ran to the Hotel, she would fight the men tooth and nail until the authorities came. But first she had to find…Ah! There! The street split into two forks with one veering sharply to the right concealing it from the street they were currently on. Without stopping she sped onto the right fork and put Felix down.

"Run." She whispered and continued down the left fork, away from the Hotel. Just as she had hoped they followed her instead of Felix, but something was off. She didn't have time to figure out what it was and just kept running.

She didn't know how long she ran, but soon her body began feeling the strain. Her breaths became short and uneven as each one became harder. Her chest was burning, aching for air and each time she allowed her lungs to fill the burning sensation grew almost unbearable. She was growing dizzy with dehydration and almost tripped over her own feet as little black spots danced across her vision, but she pushed herself forward. For Felix, she told herself every time she thought of stopping.

Her throat was as dry as sand paper and just as scratchy when she wheezed and coughed. Finally, her legs gave away and crumpled beneath her. He arms went out to catch her falling body, but one landed wrong and snapped causing her to cry out in pain. Ginny hoped that Felix had reached the Hotel safely and maybe the authorities were on there way right now.

She dared to hope.

The sound of scraping boots drew closer and seemed to slow. That's when she realized what was wrong; only two men had followed her.

--

Felix ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, igniting his energy, making him tear through the empty streets faster then he had ever thought his body was capable of. But still the man gained.

The Hotel seemed to get farther and farther away rather than closer. Felix figured it was just a trick on his mind and didn't think too much of it and just ran.

Suddenly, the man was right on top of him. He reached out a huge hand and made wild grabs with his sausage like fingers, each one missing the little boy. Felix made a triumphant sound and kicked out with his leg. His aim was true as it connected with the man's most sensitive area; he went down with a grunt.

Grinning, Felix whisked off towards the Hotel. He was so proud of himself that he didn't notice the other person standing patiently in the middle of the road, and when he did it was too late.

--

He had seen them, the four men following the redheaded woman. They were very discreet about it and if Draco hadn't trained his eye over the last nine years to watch for those types of things he would have missed it. The woman seemed to sense someone watching her too as she tensed for a moment then eased over to a merchant and casually perused the worthless merchandise, glancing from side to side. That's when he caught a glimpse of her face.

He froze.

His heart stopped.

He hardly dared to believe it. He drank in her chocolate eyes, her round nose with the bridge of freckles across it, the pink lips that he had dreamed of so many nights. Ginny, his Ginny, was standing less than six meters away from him…and she was in trouble.

Ginny was in trouble!

Draco recognized the men as the same burly foursome that ransacked his apartment a few weeks ago. He had hardly been able to take them on, how could his Ginny be expected to deal with them, and with a child.

A child!

Ginny has a child?

Draco forced the thoughts of Ginny with another man out of his head and told himself to focus. He'd ask questions about the kid later, right now he had to help her escape and get to safety.

--

"Well look what we have here, Goyle. A little redheaded slut just waiting for us to help her." A heavily built man towered over Ginny's broken body and let out what she guessed was a laugh, though it sounded more like rocks grinding.

Goyle? As in Gregory Goyle? She felt bile rising in the back of her throat. How could she have been so stupid and not disguise herself better and even worse, bring Felix here, right into the heart of danger? No, she would not feel sorry for herself, not now, not ever. She had been hurt worse then this before and she had pulled through, it was all for her son, and she could do it again.

Pulling herself to her feet, she tucked her broken arm close to her body so it was out of the way and braced herself for a fight. She cleared her mind and calmed her senses, she took a deep breath and tried to remember everything she had been taught about hand-to-hand combat.

Shortly after Draco had left, Ginny had taken a few muggle Judo and Jujitsu classes to help her get control of her life. She thought that if she could learn to control her body and other people's then she could gain equilibrium. And it did help a great deal. Not to mention she earned a black belt by the time Felix was two years old, turned out she was a natural.

"Looks like she's gunna fight us Crabbe. Come on puppet, like a little thing, much less a _woman_, like you could hurt _men_ like us? If you give up now we won't hurt you, much." They roared with laughter.

_Oh aren't you in for a surprise,_ she thought smugly. Goyle lunged for her, mistake number one. He had his hands outstretched, which made for an easy grab. She took hold of his wrist and twisted. He cried out in pain and she made the wrist snap. Then she put him in a chokehold and with her broken hand resting on the crown of his head and the other on her bicep she applied just enough pressure to crack his neck.

Crabbe had made his way behind her and put her in a headlock. She quickly slid her right leg under his open legs and flipped him over her torso, and then she climbed on top of him, crossed her wrists and took hold of his shirt collar. Her broken arm screamed in pain, but she ignored it. She rolled her knuckles down as she drew him in close, choking him. Finally his body went limp. He was dead.

In the middle of their short fight, it had started to rain and by the time she pulled herself off of Crabbe's body, she was soaked through. She wiped wet locks from her forehead and felt a pair of eyes on her back. She whipped around, ready for another go and found herself staring up into a pair of silver eyes.


	3. How can I know what you're thinking?

The darkness was overpowering, ominous, and to Felix, it was just plain creepy. He had been in the small black room for…

How long had it been?

For all he knew it could have been anywhere from hours to weeks. His internal clock had shut down soon after the door shut and the light went out. At first he was optimistic, thinking that his mummy would be there shortly, she would open the door and tell him how silly he was. Then she'd pick him up and hug him forever, he loved her hugs, best in the world. But after a while of sitting in the dark waiting without anything happening he stopped hoping for someone to save him and started planning. If he was going to get out of this, he was going to have to do it himself.

The ground of the tiny cell was made of sand which in the beginning gave him some hope because he thought that maybe he could dig his way out, but one foot down he ran into stone. He had searched all the walls for a loose brick, or a crack, anything that might tell of an opening. He knew there was a door somewhere, but in the darkness he couldn't find it. He remembered when he was younger and he would get really mad or scared or angry he could make things happen magically so he tried doing that, but again nothing happened.

Now, he was just sitting against a wall singing to himself. He had sung every song he ever knew and the ones he didn't know all the words to, he made up.

"Now lets try Ron! Ron Ron bo Bon banana fana fo Fon me my mo Mon, Ron! Harry! Harry Harry bo Barry banana fana fo Farry me my mo Marry, Harry! Hermione! Hermione Hermione bo…Ber…mione? That one's too hard." Felix sighed. Boy, was he bored! Then, just as he was about to lose his mind, a crack of light appeared next to him. The door was opening!

A head appeared through the crack, it was a woman with long brown hair pulled back in an intricate braid that hung over her shoulder. She looked around until she found the boy sitting in the corner and smiled. She had a pretty smile, one that should make someone feel warm inside, but instead froze Felix's blood. Something was oddly familiar about that smile and made a chill run down the small boys spine. He did not want to touch this woman. Something, perhaps the same thing that told him she was familiar, made a little red flag go up in Felix's mind and he inched away from her outstretched hand.

"Don't be frightened little one, I won't hurt you." She assured, giving him a false smile.

"Get away from me! I'd rather stay in here that touch your slimy hand!"

"Now, now, is that any way to speak to a lady?" She drawled, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

"I don't see any lady 'round here!" Felix retorted, but before he could get fully away from her she pulled her wand out and cried,

"Stupify!" And he was once again engulfed in darkness.

* * *

Ginny's breath caught in her throat. Right in front of her was the man for whom she was searching. The only man she had ever loved, had ever been with, who had been missing for almost a decade, was standing right in front of her.

"Ginny…" He whispered, his deep voice touching a part of her that had died a long time ago. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, she wanted to stay there with him forever, just his presence was intoxicating, but she pulled away.

"No, I can't…" Her voice broke as tears came to her eyes, she stubbornly blinked them back not wanting him to see her like this. She wasn't going to break down in tears three seconds after seeing him. She stood up straight and looked him in the eyes again, but now there was an icy shell hiding her emotions. She cleared her throat and moved her hands to fix her disheveled appearance, but as soon as she moved her broken arm a sharp stab of pain shot through her wrist up to her elbow. She winced and made a small involuntary sound of pain.

As soon as the sound escaped her lips, Draco gently put his hand on her arm and with the other held up her wand that had been missing and without his eyes moving from her face fixed her broken limb. The pain immediately left. If only her heart could be fixed so easily. She pulled her arm away.

Clearing her throat she stepped back, away from the silver haired Slytherin, she needed to think straight and being near him didn't help.

Her mind instantly clicked on Felix and the men who must have followed Felix. If they were anything like the huge men who had followed her she knew he didn't have a chance of escape. She gasped and put a trembling hand to her mouth.

"Felix! I have to find Felix!" She looked back at Draco to tell him she had to leave, but he spoke first.

"We can't do anything right now, let me take you back to my place and you can get dried off. We can talk there, too, if you want." His face showed no emotion, but it did show what the stress of running for years did to him. His once angelic face was now hard and lean with taunt skin pulled tight over his frame giving him a look that was hauntingly hollow. Where his skin used to be an almost translucent white was now sun tanned and rough. His shoulders had broadened and his frame had filled out, he was no longer tall and skinny, but grown with lean, hard muscles. His face was chiseled with hard lines and striking angles and the tanned skin made his light eyes and hair stand out in stark relief.

"Alright, lets go." And together they walked in the rain to Draco's flat.

* * *

The shock of seeing his little, innocent Ginny kill two huge men was still eminent in Draco's mind. He had run as fast as he could to her aide, but had gotten lost more than once in the winding streets of Cairo. When he thought he might be too late and becoming frustrated almost to the point of blind fury he had found a familiar wand laying in the middle of the road and for the first time in many years he did magic. It had felt so right, so fulfilling that he almost forgot why he did the simple "point me" charm but was soon off in the right direction.

He arrived just in time to see the two men lunge at her, and before he could even think of a hex to throw at them they were lying dead on the ground.

At that point he should have disappeared in the night, but he couldn't. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her wet form. Then she saw him and he was done for.

He should have made some snide comment, make her hate him for ever leaving. Get her away from him, whatever it took. He was not apart of her life anymore and she probably moved on a long time ago. Judging by the child's age, it didn't take her long either.

Now she was sitting on his small couch toweling her hair while he sipped his tea placidly.

"I have to find Felix. I don't know why I came here; I should have gone straight to the Hotel. He could be waiting there for me right now like I told him to." She was mostly talking to herself but Draco cut in.

"If I know these guys like I think I do, then they have him. They'll never stop until they do, it's best if we just assume so." Ginny looked up abruptly, like she had forgotten he was there.

"Who are they?" she asked tentatively after a moment of studying him,

"As far a I know they're former Deatheaters and Voldemort supporters, but why they hunt people like us I don't know. I haven't really had the chance to ask them." Draco said sarcastically.

"Do you find this all a big joke? Men thought no longer to be in existence have kidnapped my son!" She accused.

"Oh, so he is your son then! How long did you wait after I left until you slipped in bed with Potter or Finnegan or one of those other Gryffindor saints?" He spat out the last words like venom. Losing his temper was not something he was used to doing, but she had said she loved him and love doesn't die that easily. It just doesn't! She just stared in shocked disbelief.

"That is none of your business. Are you going help me find _my_ son or if I'm just waiting my time?"

He sat back down. He didn't even remember standing up in the first place, and nodded his agreement, but he wasn't going to apologize. She was right, though; it was none of his business. Why should he care about her happy little life now, it was evident that she didn't love him anymore. But one question tugged at his mind that just didn't fit in with what his brain was telling him.

Why was she here?

But along with everything else, he pushed it to the back of his mind and concentrated on the facts. Ginny was here, who cared about the why, and her son had been kidnapped by the same men who were following him. Now, what was the child's importance to them?

He stood again and started to pace while thinking out loud.

"Why would those men be interested in your son? If he was Potter's then they could ransom him, but I don't think they are interested in ransoming. Personally I got the impression that they wanted to stay somewhat hidden and ransoming would get a lot of unwanted attention. So if not for money, why then?"

* * *

Watching Draco with dripping hair and wet clothes pace around was almost too much for Ginny. The feral, graceful way he moved reminded her of when Dumbledore first introduced him into the Order._Rain was pouring down on the Burrow. Everyone was somber due to the loss they had just had. The battle had not been a success, to put it lightly. They had lost three members of the Order including their good friend, Tonks, and not one Deatheaters had died or been captured. _

_Ginny sat curled up on the lumpy couch next to Ron, who was cuddling with his girlfriend, Hermione. The red-haired girl sipped at her tea, but as soon as the hot liquid touched her tongue it tasted as if it had turned to ash. Ginny peered emotionless into the fire, entranced by the dancing flames; it was something she often did to avoid thinking._

_A knock came at the door and her father opened his to reveal Dumbledore standing alone in the storm._

_"Ah, Dumbledore, good to see you're alright. We were worried." Arthur said absently, "Would you care for a cup of tea?"_

_"No, thank you, Arthur. I am here with some good news." Dumbledore replied, pausing to let the full effect of his words sink in. They hadn't had good news since Moody reported that Belatrix LeStrange committed suicide, and that had been months ago. Everyone looked up hopefully. Ginny felt her heart do a flip-flop, not letting herself hope that maybe the war was somehow over and they had won._

_"Something, or rather someone, has come to our advantage. He came to me last night seeking refuge and asking if he could join the Order and fight against Voldemort." No one even winced at the name; it had become such common place, "Now, when I bring him in here please be as civil as possible, and please trust my judgment about this young man, he is here to help." Dumbledore then opened the door and went back outside, when he came back in he was accompanied by someone. Ginny heard a gasp from Ron and a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like a choke from Harry's corner of the room._

_Draco Malfoy, the son of the most notorious and evil Deatheater that ever lived, was standing in her sitting room. He had dark purple circles under his eyes and little beads of water dripped from his wild and unbrushed hair onto his soaked shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. It was strange to see the prince of Slytherin, who was always immaculate and accompanied with an aristocratic air, so disheveled. He looked around the room stonily until his eyes rested on Ginny. They stared at each other for a minute before he smirked and looked away. What was that for? She thought._

_"Are you joking? This has to be some kind of a joke, right?" Ron blurted out, "I mean, come on! It's Malfoy, the evil slimy git who's tormented us and made our lives miserable for the last six and a half years! The same guy who threatened us and called Hermione a…uh…well you know, and who we just fought against in the last battle! He was even laughing when Tonks died! Laughing! And now he's just come to you all remorseful and repentant and you just accept him with open arms? I don't think so." Ron finished in a huff and crossing his arms defensively over his chest._

_Dumbledore waited patiently throughout the tirade and calmly made his reply to the curious crowd._

_"Now that you have that out of your system, I expect you all to treat him civilly and please, no violence. Molly, I trust you will have appropriate accommodations for Mr. Malfoy. Now with that said, I have some very important business with Hagrid I need to attend to." And with a swish of his wand, he was gone and Draco stood alone, surrounded by people who were supposed to be his enemy._

_Draco walked over to the fire so to dry off his clothes, he moved so gracefully that Ginny was almost jealous. He had a cat-like grace that gave him a feline countenance and Ginny could almost picture him pouncing on Ron, claws at the ready. The image made her giggle and in the silent room the sound was practically booming. Everyone looked at her like she had grown an extra head, except for Draco who had a small smirk playing on his lips, like he knew what she had been thinking about. That was the first, but definitely not the last time she wondered if he could read her mind._

Ginny felt horrible about not telling Draco he was Felix's father, but maybe it was best he didn't know yet. It would come as quite a shock and she needed Draco to be fully conscience if he was going to help her find Felix.

And as far as Ginny was concerned it really wasn't any of Draco's business knowing about her love life, he had forfeited that right the day he had left. But deep inside Ginny she knew there was more to it than that, somewhere inside her she was testing Draco to see if he would care that she had been with other men, to see if he got jealous or angry. If he did it might be a sign that he still cared for her the way she did for him.

He was still pacing by the time her hair had dried and still he hadn't reached a logical conclusion as to why her son had been kidnapped. But to Ginny it was obvious, they wanted Felix to get to Draco. Somehow they knew Felix was Draco's son, that he was in the city, had found him and kidnapped him. They would have taken her too if she hadn't been prepared. She would have rather them taken her than Felix. She would do anything to get him back safely.

"We can't do anything tonight so we'll just have to try and track them down tomorrow. Chances are they know we'll come for the boy and set up traps and such. You should get some rest, you've had a hard day." Draco didn't even look at her, like he couldn't stand the sight of her or something. Ginny's heart sank. Her worst fear was probably true; he didn't want her anymore. He probably moved on years ago.

Well, if that was the case then so be it. She had learned to cope with his absence for quite some time and she could do it again. She placed a mask of indifference and formality on her face and stood.

"Yes, thank you. Where am I to sleep?" Draco looked up at her detached voice and formal words, something flashed in his eyes, but was gone almost instantly. What replaced it was a mask not unlike her own.

"You may have the bed, I will sleep on the couch. You may also wash up in the bathroom if you would like. I'll wake you in the morning. Blankets are in the chest by the bed." He mocked her strict demeanor as he turned and walked to the couch then said almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and sleep well. Good-night."

More depressed then ever, Ginny walked to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed.

* * *

The dark figure stood in the cemetery shrouded in a black cloak, the small sliver of the moon his only light. He held a torn diary in one hand and a small child by the hair in the other waiting for the clock to strike and tell him it was time.

He had worked tirelessly on this spell for a number of years and had waited for so long for the perfect time to execute it. And finally, the time had come.

A small breeze stirred the hem of his cloak and made the child whimper and struggle for freedom. The man didn't seem to notice, he was only concerned with the tolling of the bell.

Then finally the clock struck.

Dong!

The man held the diary to the sky and started to chant softly in another language.

Dong!

He pulled the child roughly to his feet and with magic bound him to a broken headstone and set the diary in the boy's lap.

Dong!

A long, curved dagger was unsheathed slowly making a chilling scraping sound as it came out of the scabbard. Then man spoke, "The blood of a servant!" He placed the blade in his hand and sliced downward. He dripped blood onto the diary, then onto the headstone.

Dong!

"The heart of a loved one!" And he pulled out a jar from the folds of his cloak with a beating heart inside. He pulled the lid off and took the heart out with his free hand. Setting down the jar he pulled out a small pouch of silver dust, which he poured on the heart.

Dong!

He raised the heart to the sky and recited the spell in Latin.

Dong!

The man's eyes rolled back in his head, clouds began to gather and the child started to cry.

Dong!

Lightning struck the heart causing it to glow in an unearthly way.

Dong!

"Consumed by a servant!" He bit into the glowing heart tearing a bloody piece off and chewing it without thought as blood dripped down his chin.

Dong!

"Bone of the Father and eye of the Mother together guide thy spirit back to this world!" He said tossing a bone and an eye on the boy's lap. He cried harder.

Dong!

He took more of the silver powder and sprinkled some on the boy then put his hand on the crown of the child's head and again began to chant.

Dong!

"Return to this world! And reward thy servant!"

Dong!

"Blood of the innocent is now shed for thee to gain thy strength!" And with the knife, sliced the screaming boy's throat transforming the cry into a lifeless gurgle. Lightning struck the boy and where his body had been was now another boy. This one was older, about sixteen, with black unruly hair and deep blue eyes. He smiled maliciously.

"Well done my servant. What is your name so I may know who I am rewarding?"

"My name, my lord, is Lucius Malfoy."

* * *

Draco couldn't sleep to save his life. No matter what he did his mind kept wandering to the fact that Ginny was sleeping just one room over, in his bed no less.

He tried all the typical remedies, warm milk, reading a boring book, but nothing worked. Thus the reason he was up at four a.m. to hear the tap on his door. He bristled. _At least I'm awake, alert and ready for an attack, _Draco thought dryly as he cautiously approached the door.

Preparing himself he opened the door and stared shocked at who was standing there.

Pansy Parkinson was leaning against the doorframe smirking. He had successfully stayed hidden for nine years and then in the same month seven people from his past had found him. He sighed resignedly.

"What do you want?" Pansy's smirk became a full smile as she recognized him.

"Draco? You're the…? Well, I guess it makes sense." She said to herself, and then to Draco, "What do I want? Many things." She sauntered into his small flat and surveyed the place. She wrinkled her nose, "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

Draco sneered, "Are you going to tell me why you're here? I doubt it's for a friendly chat, so get on with it. I don't have all day." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently for an answer.

Pansy leaned against the divider between the kitchen and the sitting room and flipped her long intricate braid over her shoulder. "Well, Drakie, I actually knew the bloke who lived here before you. Apparently he left without saying good-bye, who knew _you_ lived here now?" Her smile sent chills down his spine. This was no coincidence, he knew Pansy and she always knew everything about everyone wherever she went, she would never make a mistake like the one she was claiming to have made.

"Lucky me." Draco retorted detachedly examining his nails.

"You know, Drakie, it's been so long. We should catch up sometime." She walked over to where Draco was standing and brushed a hand down his arm while looking up suggestively.

"Sure, sounds great." He said, shoving away her touch., "Look, can you leave? I don't really feel like talking to you right now. Thanks, I'll floo you." He guided her to the door none too lightly, opened it in one quick motion and shoved her out. Her mouth was still hanging open when he closed the door in her face, smirking. He never did like her.

He opened his fist to reveal a folded piece of parchment that he had pick-pocketed out of Pansy's pocket. Smiling, he unfolded it and stared. It was a map, well, more like a blueprint of something. It wasn't a building but more like a giant maze riddled with traps. He had also noticed when she came close to him she smelled strongly of fire and smoke. As he walked back to the sitting room his feet crunched on something, he looked down and saw the floor was sprinkled with sandy footprints.

Shaking his head he crumpled the piece parchment and stuffed it in his pocket and decided to try and get some sleep.

* * *

Ginny stepped quietly away from the door and back to the bed, if you could even call it a bed, and slipped between the sheets. She had gotten up to get a drink and discovered Pansy Parkinson making moves on Draco. Had Draco been having contact with the other Slytherin all these years? She didn't want to think that he had when he never even wrote Ginny once. Not to mention Pansy was confirmed a Deatheater when the war began and if she was talking to Draco, what did that mean?

Pushing it to the back of her mind to be reexamined in the morning she resolved to get some sleep.

The room was made of black marble with veins of white winding though it. Two men stood in the middle of the room conversing quietly, black hoods hiding both their faces.

_With a loud bang double doors made of dark mahogany were thrown open and another hooded man entered with a small precession following closely behind him. They formed a half circle centering in the middle and stood like statues waiting for something or someone. _

_They waited for what seemed like hours, none moving a muscle, until what they were waiting for came. The man in the middle of the semi-circle spoke, "Behold the Dark Lord has risen! All hail the Dark Lord!" And through the doors walked the man who had haunted Ginny's nightmare since she was eleven._

Ginny shot up in bed, cold sweat soaking her clothes and making her hair stick to her face. Her breath was raspy and uneven and her body felt like it had just run a marathon and no matter what she did she couldn't get his face out of her mind.

Tom Riddle was very much alive.


	4. Where do we go from here?

"So lets review what we know, the boy was kidnapped, the Dark Lord was raised in his younger form and Draco is the kid's father?" To her, the last part was the most shocking, "What does this all mean?" Pansy asked loudly to the small group of fellow Deatheaters.

A few looked up languidly not really caring about what Pansy was saying. It had been a hard day of sitting and doing nothing. Some shrugged and others mumbled words of ignorance on the matter. She gave up and sighed, irritated with her comrades and dropped dejectedly onto the vacant leather couch.

They had been lazing around doing nothing but waiting for orders the past few days. None had come and it had been driving Pansy mad, so she had decided to do some digging of her own since Lucius had a habit of keeping everyone in the dark. After Harry-Bloody-Potter annihilated the Dark Lord and had sent the ragged band of Deatheaters running with their tails between their legs into hiding, Malfoy had banded them all together with the hope of resurrecting the Dark Lord. But besides that, he failed to share anything else with them for the past eight years. None of them knew how this would be done, but if anyone could do it was Malfoy.

Now the plan was in motion. Things were coming together. They knew Malfoy needed the boy for the Dark Lord, but what they didn't understand was why this particular boy. Malfoy was very avid about them getting the "right child" and Pansy had wanted to know why.

She started by reading all the files kept on the boy and found out some very important information like his favorite flavor of ice cream was strawberry and his middle name was Marcellus. Frustrated almost to the point of screaming, she finally ran upon something useful. In the second paragraph on the forty-eighth page was the father's information and current address, but it left out one crucial piece of information - his name. It appeared that this bloke moved around quite a bit so she decided to make a social call before he decided to go for another floo trip. And boy, did she find out something interesting! Draco Malfoy was the child's father! The only problem was that it didn't make sense. Why would Lucius go through all that trouble to arrange the kidnapping of his own grandson?

Pansy had been trying to piece together all the information she had and still hadn't come up with any plausible reason as to why_ this _kid. But the purpose of her research ended when Lucius had taken the child away a few days ago and she hadn't seen either since.

Talking about people she hadn't seen, Crabbe and Goyle had been missing for about two days now. She briefly wondered where they had go off to, but it wasn't a matter of great concern; they did always get lost or stuck someplace. She remembered at Hogwarts they were once gone for a week because they pushed instead of pulled on the lavatory door thinking they were locked in. They ate toilet paper rolls and pocket lint to keep themselves alive. She rolled her eyes at the memory.

Getting more comfortable on the leather couch and propping her feet on the coffee table, she put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. It had been such a boring day that there was really no reason to stay awake any longer. But just as she was drifting off there was a loud knock at the door of the flat. Groaning loudly she forced herself to her feet and dragged her sluggish body to the door. Opening it she smiled at the familiar face peaking out from a blue cloak.

"About time you got back."

* * *

Toweling her face dry, Ginny looked tiredly into the cracked mirror at her pale reflection. She had not gotten a wink of sleep after her dream of Tom. This had created small circles under her eyes and worry lines on her forehead, she also thought she looked paler than usual, though she didn't know if that was possible. It was bad enough having Felix's welfare to worry about, but now she had to add Tom being alive to the list. She made an annoyed sound and heaved the towel at the mirror as if to dash her reflection. Running her fingers through her newly washed hair she took a few calming breaths before tightening the knot on her robe and going out to meet Draco for breakfast. 

When she got to the kitchen she discovered something quite shocking.

Draco could cook!

He had prepared two ham, cheese and onion omelets, two bowls with strawberries and cream, two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice (she saw the orange rind in the sink) and had somehow procured two Daily Prophets. _Oh my!_ She thought.

He saw her standing in the doorway open mouthed and smirked. She shut her mouth with a snap and put on a neutral face.

"Oh my, what?" Draco asked with an eyebrow raised arrogantly. It took Ginny a moment to realize that she must have spoken aloud. She cleared her throat and fiddled with the knot on her robe to buy herself more time.

"Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy could actually do something without the assistance of house elves? It's really quite shocking."

"Well, when you live on your own for nine years you have to learn to do things by yourself. The only person I could trust was me, but 'me' didn't know too much about the world. It was either learn or die. I chose to learn." Ginny understood now more than ever how hard it must have been for him. When she had met him, he didn't know one cleaning spell or even how to degnome a garden and it either took a sound threat or a bribe to get him to do either.

_"Ok, when one comes out of it's hole, grab it, spin it and throw it. Like this." Ginny grabbed the nearest gnome and spun it around her head until it was properly dizzy then threw it over the fence and whooped for joy. "That was a far one!" She looked over at her companion, "Your turn!"_

_"You mean I have to touch those things?" The blonde boy drawled, wrinkling his nose in disgust and crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. " I don't think so. Malfoy's do not do chores. But you're free to do it all you want Weasel, be my guest." She rolled her eyes and put on her best Malfoy sneer._

"_Well, _Malfoy_," she said imitating his drawl and emphasizing his name, "you are no longer someone who can get away with not doing chores. Now you either learn to pull your own weight around here or I'll make Mum have you sleep in Ron's room with him and Harry, how would you like that?" She said triumphantly at the look of utter horror on Malfoy's face, "Didn't think so. Shall we try this again?"_

"Thank you, Draco. It smells amazing." They sat down at the table and opened their newspapers simultaneously; they looked up and gave each other slight smiles then returned to their breakfasts.

The news wasn't that exciting. Another muggle toilet bombing, someone in the Ministry was retiring, Harry Potter's daughter's birthday bash and Blaise Zabini was missing.

Blaise Zabini was missing!

"Oh dear!" Ginny cried. Draco looked up questioningly with an eyebrow quirked. "Blaise is missing! Here read it!" She handed the paper to Draco who scanned its contents, the only sign of emotion was his brows getting gradually more furrowed the farther he got through the article. He let out a low whistle and placed he paper on his empty plate.

"Who would kidnap Blaise? It just doesn't make sense, does it?" Draco said in reply to the editorial. Ginny shifted uncomfortably and stared at her half eaten omelet. Draco stared at her face a moment as if it would reveal some hidden answer. "Why do I get the feeling that you might know something about Blaise's disappearance?" Ginny looked up innocently.

"Why would I know anything about it?"

"I don't know, but you do. I taught you that 'innocent' face. Spill it." Draco said firmly. Ginny decided she might as well tell him what she knew. She sighed in resignation.

"Blaise contacted me about three weeks ago to tell me that he knew how to find you. I hadn't seen him for eight and a half years, ever since I told him I was pregnant with…Felix." She had almost said your son, "So it came as quite a shock when suddenly he showed up professing some knowledge of your whereabouts. Anyways, he made me be all discreet about everything because he said the same people who were hunting you were watching him. I guess one of us wasn't discreet enough. I saw him about a week ago, a few days before his disappearance, to tell him I was going to Cairo." She finished and looked up into Draco's silver eyes, trying to discern what was hidden in their depths. All she could see was thoughtful contemplation. He had drawn into himself, mulling over her words.

* * *

Some of what Ginny had said didn't make sense to him. Why would Blaise disappear after learning about Ginny's pregnancy? And, why would he tell her where he was if she had moved on years ago, had a child with another man and was probably happily married? Unless she really hadn't moved on and her life wasn't really as happy as he thought it was. Maybe she was acting so detached from him because she thought he had moved on like he thought she had. Come to think of it she wasn't wearing a wedding band. 

His conclusion was like a slap in the face. He now knew she still loved him and whoever was the father of the child was no longer important, he still would like to know, but it didn't really matter anymore. He looked up at the red-haired woman and she quickly averted her eyes, suddenly finding her fork very interesting. He smirked. Yes, it was very obvious now. But he wouldn't be the one to make the first move; he would play with her for a little while, try and get her to admit that she still loved him.

"So, do you think that Blaise is somewhere in Cairo? I mean, if the guys hunting you are here and if they took him then wouldn't he be here too?" Ginny's voice broke his concentration. He had momentarily forgotten all about Blaise.

"Yes, that would make sense. But Blaise can take care of himself, your kid can't. I think we should just focus on finding your son. If we're lucky they're being held in the same place and we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"His name is Felix." Draco blinked. "You never say his name." Ginny accused, her eyes boring into him.

"What? I say his name all the time, I don't know what you're talking about." He knew exactly what she was talking about; he _never_ said the kid's name. To Draco, if he said the name then the kid would become real. He knew it was stupid, but he still couldn't make himself say it. He just couldn't bear the thought of Ginny with another man. She may still love him, but that didn't mean she hadn't dated other men and she did have a child with someone other than Draco.

"Whatever, Draco." She said rolling her eyes. There was an awkward silence for a little while where Ginny fiddled with her glass and Draco just stood with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter for support. They didn't speak for a good ten minutes. Finally he glanced at Ginny from the corner of his eye and noticed her eyes had a sort of glazed look to them and her face had grown ghostly pale. Not wanting to seem too concerned he casually gave a small cough and pushed himself away from the counter.

"You, uh, alright there, Ginny? You seem a bit bothered." Ginny blinked rapidly and color flooded back into her cheeks causing them to get a slight pink tinge.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Didn't get much sleep last night. Do you honestly call that thing a bed? I can't see how anyone can sleep on that rock. You should get yourself a proper bed." She rubbed her neck for emphasis. Draco scowled. He hated people telling him what he _should_ do.

"Thank you for pointing that out, next time I'm in town I'll pop into a mattress shop and get myself a _proper_ bed. That's my top priority. Running and hiding for my life is no longer as important as buying myself a mattress worthy of being called a bed." Ginny returned the scowl just as fiercely. Oh yes, this whole wooing thing was going great.

"Well, you don't have to be so mean about it, do you?" And then to his surprise she stuck her tongue out at him. Before he could stop himself he snorted with laughter and the next thing he knew they were both howling with gut-wrenching laughter and clutching their sides. He was leaning on the table as Ginny leaned on his shoulder.

"We're…so…mature." She managed to say breathlessly between fits of giggles. After they settled down a bit Ginny looked up at him, "Why is it that every time we try and have a civilized conversation we end up at each others throat?"

"Because it's what we do, isn't it? We bicker like an old married couple." The instant he said it he wished it back in his mouth. She stared at him wide-eyed. He shifted his weight trying to act nonchalant and gave a feeble wave of his hand as if to stress its unimportance, "or like brother and sister." He quickly added then mentally cringed when a look of pain flashed through her brown eyes.

"I'm going to go, um, get my things together. We should go to my Hotel and check to see if Felix was there or not. Right then." She stood awkwardly and walked to his room. When she left the kitchen he sunk into a chair and propped his head up with his hands. How could he be so stupid? He practically called her a sister! He groaned audibly then got to his feet.

Ginny was right, the best place to start was the Hotel. He picked up the dish on the table and started to walk towards the sink when his foot crunched on something. Looking down he saw the crumpled piece of parchment he had put in his pocket the night before.

Setting the plates on the counter he picked up the parchment and opened it again to reveal the same scribbles that looked vaguely like a blueprint. It seemed oddly familiar to him but he couldn't think of where he had seen it before, the name just kept flittering out of his head every time he tried to grasp onto it. He knew one place he could go to find out though, The Museum of Antiquities.

He spent a lot of time there because it was usually always deserted and quiet, the curator was the only man he associated with on a regular basis. He was the closest thing to a friend he had had for nine years. Mr. Quazeem, a man who looked young for his age of sixty-four, was energetic and enthusiastic about anything Ancient Egyptian regardless of it being fact or myth. Draco had spent hours there just listening to stories of the Pharaoh's, gods, ancient lands and curses and about the traps and treasures hidden deep inside the pyramids. His uncontained enthusiasm over usually boring things like how the stones for the pyramids were shaped made even the most ornery child stop and listen in awe and rapture. If anyone would know what the blueprint was for, he would.

Ginny came out of his room just after he finished the dishes in a peach button-up blouse and jeans with good sized holes on both the knees. They were worn and torn in a few places and were patched up in others. He could tell none of the tears were intentional, like most of the jean sold in stores nowadays, but results of hard work. And Merlin, did they look good on her. Draco told himself to focus and tore his eyes away.

Looking for something to do with his hands he raked his hair out of his eyes. "Well, shall we go then?" She nodded and together they left for the Hotel Horus House.

* * *

Gradually floating back into consciences he tried to remember what had happened. His mind was fuzzy and only got fuzzier the harder he concentrated. Each time he tried to grab onto something substantial it would float just out of his reach, like a leaf caught by the wind. He was starting to get a little freaked out when he tried to think of his name and came up with a blank. He remembered, however, about being a wizard and everything that entailed, but details about his life were mysteriously missing. He decided to focus on the here and now instead of panicking. The first thing he noticed was that the ground he was lying on was not hard, but soft and squishy. Tentatively he opened one eye and surveyed the room, his other eye shot open with shock as he stared at his lavish surroundings. 

He was lying on an ornate silver and green bed that just dripped expense. The duvet, pillows, bed hangings, drapes covering him on all four sides, and everything was made of the finest silk. The curtains were a deep emerald green with silver slithering snakes embroidered around the edges. His duvet was dark chrome with the same embroidery but in dark green. He suddenly felt very dirty and out of place lying on such an expensive bed. He didn't know why he felt this way, wouldn't the logical explanation of him being here was because this was his room? He sat up only to realize he was tucked into the covers. Yes, it would appear as if this _was_ his bed. Shaking his head in confusion, the boy decided to explore his new surrounding more thoroughly. Due to the curtains hanging around him he had no idea what the rest of the room looked like. Taking a deep breath he quickly pulled the hangings aside, like pulling off a band-aide so the shock wouldn't be so intense.

And, boy! Was the shock intense!

He stood there open mouthed, gaping like a fish at _his_ room. The ceiling was painted with an intricate and busy mural of abstract people doing everything from dancing to sacrificing each other, there were also animals of all shapes and sizes, he thought one must have been a falcon, though it could have easily passed for a human since it had arms and legs. He couldn't make out some of the paintings since the ceiling was fifty feet above him arching in a high dome. Dark stained mahogany crown molding was lacing the canopy above him. The dark wood was carved with such acute skill that it must have been all done by hand, not magic. The wood curved and spiked making beautiful intricate designs. He trailed his eyes down the green and silver flecked walls that was outlined by dark green marble baseboards and door casings, if he didn't know any better he'd say that the silver paint was real silver ore that had been melted down and put into the paint. It seemed to shimmer in the sunlight that was streaming in from the open window. Did he say window?

He meant balcony- no- more like colonnade! He could see the pillars of marble holding up the large overhang.

Light green lacey drapes flowed down like water from where they were hanging in front of the open colonnade doors. A slight breeze ruffled them as the songs of birds drifted into the suite. The green color of the drapes made the sunlight ripple and seem mossy and cool, like a lagoon hidden deep within a cave. The furniture was all made of the dark mahogany, except for the table, which was made of the same dark marble that outlined the doors. The legs were gilded in silver scrollwork. The chairs were made of dark wood and ornate fringed moss colored cushions with the same silver scrollwork as the table's gilded legs. They rested on an ornate carpet, embellished with an eye wrenching snake motif that covered most of the dark wooden floors. A high window above his bed made of stained glass sent sparkles of light dancing across the walls. All in all it was breathtaking.

Then a feeling of pressure in his lower abdomen started to grow painful. He decided to relieve himself while surveying the bathroom. Basically, the bathroom exactly the same design as the bedroom with a green marble standing bathtub and a silver washbasin in front of a huge mirror. The boy stopped in front of the large mirror and stared at his pale complexion. He had silvery blonde hair, mercury colored eyes and a small round nose with freckles flecked across its bridge.

The boy stood there staring until he heard a loud knock at his door. Walking to let whomever it was in, the intruder burst into the room without even waiting for the boy's reply. The man strode right up to the silver haired boy and smirked down at him. The man was almost as fancy as the room, wearing a dark green cloak with silver lining and a coat that was decorated in perfect unison with the large carpet, in fact he felt sure that in the man stood against the walls he would melt into them flawlessly.

The boy looked up into his deep azure eyes. Abruptly his pulse started to quicken and his breath shortened. He got the impression he had seen this man- well, more like teenager- somewhere before. His handsome face, blue eyes and black hair pulled something from the boys lost memories- a feeling, actually- a feeling of the deepest fear. He knew this man was powerful, he could practically see the magic rolling off him in waves. When he finally looked at the boy something flashed in his dark blue eyes, but was gone before the boy could determine what it was. A broad smile spread over his face to reveal pearly white teeth. The smile did not reach his cold, emotionless eyes.

"And how are you feeling? You took quite a knock to the head, Michael." _Was he addressing me_? The boy thought foolishly as he looked over his shoulder to see if someone else was secretly hiding behind the curtains. The name "Michael" didn't feel right, but since it was the only one he had been offered he took it.

"I guess so," the boy replied. "I don't remember anything though, not even my name." He rubbed his forehead for emphasis. The tall man stepped closer.

"Oh my, is that so?" He said feigning concern. "Well, I guess I will just have to reintroduce you to your life. Your name is Michael and I am your brother Lord Voldemort." The boy's face remained neutral except for one eyebrow cocked almost to his silvery hairline.

"But we look nothing alike, how could we be brothers?" _Lord_ Voldemort looked for a moment as if anger would overtake him, but then a broad grin spread over his unblemished face.

"You have always been such a silly boy, my dear brother." He patted Michael's head awkwardly, as if touching the boy might contaminate him of leprosy. As if confirming Michael's thoughts Lord Voldemort absently whipped his hand on his cloak. Michael, _if that's my real name_, he thought, highly doubted that this imposter ever made contact with children and even more vehemently doubted that this _lord _was his brother. He decided to play along anyway, what would it hurt? He said as seriously as he could,

"Why can't I remember anything, sweet, kind, oh-so caring brother?" The veins in Voldemort's forehead started to pulse alarmingly and his eyes blazed with unbridled hatred, but through it all he maintained his glued-on smile.

"You fell off your horse yesterday, your memories will hopefully be coming back soon. But until then, how about breakfast on your balcony?" Michael plastered on a smile just as fake and relied that he would very much like to do that. Seeing the hatred, animosity and awkwardness this man showed towards him made Michael feel slightly more lighthearted. Why? Well, from the looks of his room there wasn't going to be much entertainment around this place, but the prospect of tormenting _Lord_ Voldemort turned the mansion into the Quidditch World Cup.

* * *

"Are you sure? No one named Felix came in last night or this morning? Could you check again?" Ginny leaned over the chipped wooden countertop for the fifth time only to achieve further annoying the balding clerk. His thin oily mustache twitched with frustration as he gave the redheaded woman a snarling smile. 

"Nooo, for the hundredth time, no." He drawled clearly annoyed with their waterfall of questions. The clerk held up his hands to the twenty-pound note Draco had slipped onto the counter from under his palm. "Please, you're only wasting your time. I suggest checking the last place you saw him or perhaps, if he has a cell phone, calling him. Anything to get you away from my desk." He added gruffly.

The whole time he had been eyeing the money in Draco's hand greedily. Finally his avarice overcame his politeness and he hastily grabbed it, stuffing it in his moth-eaten suit jacket. Draco scowled so darkly that the obnoxious clerk winced and slowly pulled the note out of his jacket pocket and offered it back grudgingly. Draco snatched it violently giving a low menacing growl.

"Down Draco." Ginny muttered rolling her eyes. He cooled slightly. Ginny was starting to get a migraine just behind her eyes from dealing with these two for nearly an hour. "Let's go, he was obviously never here." She shot the concierge her own scowl before turning back to Draco and leading him out of the Hotel Horus House.

She was on the verge of tears at their failure and they had only been at this for a few agonizingly long hours. Her mind was so panicked, whirling with doubts and fears. Pictures of her beloved Felix bruised and broken lying in a ditch somewhere or being hurt by former deatheaters kept gluing themselves to her minds eye. It was almost more than she could take. Apart of her wanted to curl up in a soft bed, cover her head with a blanket and just let the darkness consume her. But that was a tiny almost nonexistent part of her, the majority of her wanted- needed- to find Felix no matter what it took. She would tear this city apart piece by piece if she had to, and it looked like she might have to.

Instead of letting the tears slip past her eyelids she sucked them back in and flexed her jaw. She would not cry in front of Draco. Ok, so maybe she was acting a bit childish, but she didn't care. She didn't want to show Draco a crack in her strength- her pride would never allow it. She stiffened her resolve and she said a little louder than she meant, "Where should we look next?" They had looked down the streets she had sent Felix down the night before, but had found nothing. Just walking down those twisting ally's made Ginny feel desperate, alone, and most of all horribly guilty. She should have kept Felix with her, and then they would be together right now. Draco would know that he had a son and that Ginny still loved him. They'd probably be out to ice cream instead of desperately searching buildings and streets for signs of a skirmish. That made the feeling of wanting to crawl in a corner grow considerably larger.

They were just sitting down for a short rest when something snatched the breath from her lungs before she even had a chance to inhale. Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly trying to make him disappear. He was walking leisurely down the sandy road as if he didn't have a care in the world, looking at the merchant's products like he was actually interested.

Suddenly, Ginny felt a hand on her arm and she jumped like the first leap of a chocolate frog. She turned to meet Draco's concerned mercury eyes.

"Something wrong, Gin? You look like you've just seen…" his voice trailed off as his scanning eyes found what had frightened Ginny. His eyes darkened and his face became hauntingly neutral hiding every emotion flawlessly behind a well-practiced cold mask. It was something he had honed to perfection during his torturous childhood with his abusive father, Lucius Malfoy. It had taken years to teach Draco how to show some sort emotion on his face and now he was back to the expressionless face of a hawk.

"You…you see him too, don't you?" She whispered shakily. He gave a slight nod. Ginny's hand was trembling, but she made herself turn slightly so she could get a good look at _him_.

Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort, was buying a bushel of sprouts form an eager merchant. Suddenly he turned and looked directly at them, giving them a friendly smile, something that definitely didn't fit his painfully handsome face. The most frightening thing was that it looked genuine.


	5. This is my confession

Draco's hand shot into his pocket in search of his wand. He knew Voldemort would never let them live through this but he was going to die fighting. He was trying to organize his thoughts and try to focus on a good hex to use but all he could think about was trying to get Ginny away and safe. He tried to stand slowly, without drawing too much attention to them, but as he stood his elbow knocked his coffee cup off the table causing it fall to the ground. The sound of shattering glass was barely heard over the busy market but Voldemort had seen the whole thing.

The black haired youth hurried over with a concerned expression and knelt down next to Draco. He started picking up pieces carefully and setting them on the edge of the café table.

"You should be more careful around the lady, she could have been cut." He stood and winked at Ginny, who turned ghostly pale. Draco stepped between them and held out his wand. Voldemort looked at the wand with mild interest.

"What an interesting stick? Did you whittle it yourself?" Draco blinked. What did he think he was playing at? Voldemort was acting like he had never seen a wand before. Draco was at a loss for words. Voldemort always made him freeze on the spot, ever since he was a boy. His wit just dried up and all threats he thought of sounded empty and juvenile. But this time Draco decided to actually say something instead of gaping like a frightened child.

"Come off it, are we supposed to believe that a man looking exactly like sixteen year old Voldemort, who has been dead now for quite some time, just happens to be in the same market in the same city in the world as we are? God, you really are as stupid as you look." His mercury eyes darkened with threat, "Where's Felix?" He shocked himself by saying the kids name.

"I'm sorry," Voldemort said slowly his face painting a perfect mask of fright and confusion, "But I think you have mistaken me for someone else. My name is Mark, not Volde-whatsit. And frankly you might consider getting some serious help, I was just trying to help you clean up the mess you made." Draco growled slightly making _Mark_ flinch. "Please…I just…I didn't mean…please don't hurt me!" And with that last squeaky request he gathered his sprouts hastily and sprinted out of the market knocking over a few people and carts as he looked back.

Draco was shaking slightly from containing his rage for so long. What was that all about? Did he think they were fools? They weren't about to believe that some man who looks exactly like a sixteen year old Voldemort _just happens_ to be in the same market as him and Ginny, out of thousands of markets in all of Cairo, and _just happens_ to make contact with them. No, there was a plan, a purpose here somewhere, if only he could figure out what…

"Someone HELP! I think she's having a seizure! Someone call an ambulance!" Draco spun to see Ginny convulsing uncontrollably on the ground. Her eyes were rolled back into her head and white foam was forming at the corners of her mouth. Draco felt like a bolt of lightning had just shot through him, all he could do was stand there and stare. Finally, the woman who had screamed shook him violently and yelled for him to "do something!" He quickly knelt next to Ginny and whispered the full body bind curse while pointing the wand into her ribs. Nothing happened. She was still convulsing, her eyes still rolled around blankly and the foam increased. A moan escaped her lips, as if she was in pain. Draco wrapped his arms around her, propped her head against his shoulder and whispered words of comfort into her ear.

"Shhh, it's all right. Everything is ok. Shhh, yes it's ok, you're just fine." He rocked her back and forth and kept whispering into her ear until the ambulance (who someone had apparently called) came.

Draco's mind was in a haze, his whole body was numb as he watched the men strap Ginny to a board and cover her face with a plastic bubble mask-thing. What had just happened? Why Ginny?

"Sir? Are you coming with us?" Draco started at the sound of the man's voice. He turned and stared blankly.

"What?"

"Are you coming or not? We have to get her to the hospital now!"

"Uh…" Draco stammered. Should he go? Every molecule in his body screamed yes, but his mind told his that he needed to investigate the reason why this was happening to Ginny. He knew it was Voldemort's work but still needed to know how.

"Where are you taking her?"

"To the Dar El-Shefa Hospital on Ramses Street." With a weak smile and a reassuring word, he leapt onto the back of the ambulance and drove away with Ginny.

Draco was frozen. He tried to keep his feelings on the other side of the wall he had built long ago. There were bigger things he had to take care of instead of just standing in the middle of the street and worrying about Ginny. If he was going to help her at all he would have to find the reason for all of this.

The place to start was Voldemort. But Voldemort hadn't touched either of them and the only way to inflict that kind of damage was by touch. He had seen something similar to this only once, when Katie Bell had touched the opal necklace his sixth year, and since he had plated the necklace in the first place he knew how to stop the convulsions. It again came to finding the source.

"All right, nothing to see. To back to your business." The manager of the café had come out and was now shooing the people away. A bus boy came out with a broom and started sweeping up the mess the paramedics had made.

Draco sat at the table he and Ginny had been at only an hour before and tried to think, but all he could think of was Ginny alone in a Muggle hospital with tubes coming out of her. He had been at one of those things they called a hospital only once before and he had vowed to never enter one again, even if it meant his life. They stuck him with pointy metal objects and made him swallow small round things that made him feel like he had been hexed.

He looked down at the table where a piece of the teacup he had broken lay precariously on the edge. Something tugged at his hazy mind. Voldemort had picked up pieces of the cup and put them on the table. That meant something, but Draco's mind was too unfocused. Draco closed his silver eyes and rubbed his temples. Ok…think! What if Voldemort silently hexed the pieces while they were distracted? But Ginny would have had to touch one. Maybe she did when he wasn't looking. Since that was all he could process at the moment Draco decided that is what happened.

Draco looked around the ground to find something to pick up the teacup shards with. He picked up a latex glove and carefully scooped the piece on the table into it without having it make contact with his hand.

He tied the end of the glove and put it in his pocket.

* * *

_Michael _dangled his feet in the chill pool water and leaned back lazily onto his hands. It had been agonizingly boring that day with Lord Voldemort gone. To where he could not say which annoyed him even more. The man certainly kept a lot of secrets, which seemed weird since they were supposedly brothers.

Michael's stomach growled loudly as if trying to get his attention. In answer to the growl his personal servant Mordecai (he still found it odd and disturbing that he even had a servant, but had learned to live with it after Voldemort rebuked him for trying to "free" him. He had tried to talk to Mordecai many times, tried to goad him into conversation, but the dark man never spoke or even smiled.) glided over with a tray littered with fruit, cheese, bread and olives. Michael smiled.

"Thanks Mordecai, why donchya sit and eat with me, I haven't seen you eat in hours." Mordecai simply stared for a moment before nodding slightly, his face remaining neutral the whole time. His servant bent gracefully and sat cross-legged next to the blonde boy. He often reminded Michael of a stalking leopard, the way he moved with silent grace and agility. A question that had been tugging at the back of his mind finally popped out in a tangle of words.

"Is my name really Michael cause I don't think it is, it just doesn't fit, you know? Something just doesn't click in my mind, it just feels wrong. Do you know what my name is?" Mordecai picked up an olive and placed it smoothly into his mouth gazing hard at the horizon. His eyes were scanning as if looking for danger off in the distance. He made no indication of even hearing the question. Michael sighed. Mordecai would never speak. Maybe he was a mute? No, he seemed to hear commands just fine, but never questions or ordinary conversation starters.

Michael started eating until his stomach felt pleasantly full, a decidedly lovely feeling. Just as he was picking up the bread crumbs with damp fingers Voldemort came out onto the deck and scanned the grounds until his azure eyes fell onto Michael and Mordecai. He smiled broadly, a rarity, and walked out to greet them, cloak billowing like shimmery silver cloud behind him. Why he was wearing a cloak on such a hot day, Michael didn't know, nor did he care.

"Brother! Glad to see you enjoying yourself, hope you're not too hot out here. Did you have Mordecai put the sun deflector spell on you? Don't want you getting sun burned now, do we?" He sounded concerned, but the slight edge on his voice and cold eyes suggested otherwise. Michael stood and ran toward Voldmort, upon reaching the handsome man he threw his arms around his waist and squeezed as hard as he could.

"Oh Voldie! You're back! Oh how I missed you big brother!" He snuggled his face into Voldemort's stomach. He could almost feel the disgust rolling off him like heat waves off the pavement. Releasing Voldemort, Michael looked up at him with his most endearing puppy-dog face he could muster. "You're never going to leave me again, are you brudder?" Voldemorts face screwed up with hatred and he looked for a moment as if he was going to sick up, but then was instantly smoothed into a charming smile. He had a bad habit of doing that it seemed.

"Of course not little one. I will always be here for you. Me and only me, remember that." Turning suddenly he addressed Michael's servant, "Mordecai, come with me for a moment, I have some very important people I need to attend to and you're the only servant I have who I cant trust to stay quiet." With that, a pat on the head and a quick wipe on the cloak Voldemort left. With a quick bow from Mordecai he followed silently, always with the dangerous grace of a leopard.

--

Michael was shaken awake gently as a calloused hand was placed over his mouth. It was very dark in his room, but having been asleep for hours his eyes had adjusted to the night. He could make out the crooked nose and sharp jaw of Mordecai standing over him. The dark man leaned close to Michael's face and whispered in a deep rasp, "Get dressed and be quiet." Michael would have been too stunned to move at hearing silent Mordecai finally speak if there hadn't been so much urgency in his servant's voice. Michael scurried out of bed, shivered when his bare feel hit the icy marble, and blindly searched for pants and a shirt. How a day so hot produced such a cold night baffled Michael.

Finally feeling a pair of pants he slipped those on and quickly pulled on a shirt, not caring if they matched. Something told him this was very serious and that now was not the time to worry about matching clothes. As soon as he tugged his sweater on Mordecai pulled him up onto his back, motioning for quiet, and stealthily made his way out to the balcony.

Michael wondered what was going on. Did he fully trust in Mordecai? Wasn't he Voldemort's lackey? Maybe his _brother _had finally decided to do him in. But something told Michael to trust the dark silent man. Something felt different about Mordecai, he didn't seem as purely malevolent as Voldie and the other followers.

Mordecai reached the edge of the balcony and stepped up onto the low marble railing. Michael's eyes widened when he saw a broom hovering just over the edge. What was going on?

He didn't realize he spoke aloud until Mordecai softly spoke the answer, "I am taking you back to where you belong."

"What do you mean, where I belong?" He hoped he didn't belong on the bottom of the Nile. Michael knew this place wasn't his home per say, but it was the only place he could remember.

"Back to your mother, Felix."

* * *

Pansy watched her friend over the warm mug of butterbeer. He looked tired, his sapphire eyes didn't have their usual mysterious sparkle and they were surrounded by deep red circles.

"I still can't believe you pulled it off. I thought she would have hated you, what running off all those years ago and all. She must really have wanted to see Malfoy."

"I can't believe you doubted my cunning ingenuity. It hurts Pansy, really it does." Pansy stuck her tongue out. It was like they were back in the Slytherin common room again.

"No, really Blaise, how did you get Weasley down here? _And_ get her to bring her kid?" Blaise gave her a snake like smile, the red circles making it even more striking.

"I was just my charming self." Pansy waited for more, but when nothing came she sneered.

"Charming self, eh? And how's that go again?" Blaise winked and swept her hand off of the warm mug and gave it a light kiss.

"Oh my dear, I think you know." She couldn't stop a small giggle from escaping. Just as Blaise leaned in the door to the sitting room burst open, making a loud crack as it hit the wall. _Great, another dent_, Pansy thought. Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway, wand in hand and looking fierce, his silver hair in wild disarray creating a sort of jagged halo.

"The boy is gone. Stop messing about and start looking! We cannot loose him!" Pansy and Blaise stood, both reaching for their wands.

"He can't have gone far, have someone search the air, the wilderness, the desert, the market!" Blaise ordered loudly. Lucius barred his teeth.

"Don't you think we're already doing that, Zabini! Now get moving before the Dark Lord finds out about this, you don't want to be around for that!"

Pushing past Malfoy, Pansy rushed out into the dark hall. She didn't know which way to go, where to start looking. Why did this one boy matter so much? He had just been hanging around doing nothing ever since he had gotten there. Why not go get a new kid, or just let this one go. _Why did it matter so much? _Blaise stumbled into the hall behind her, looking murderous, apparently him and Malfoy didn't get along too well.

"You go that way," He said, pointing a long brown finger to his left. "I'll go down here." And with that, he tore off down the gloomy corridor.

Pansy ran too, not wanting to be in Malfoy's wake, and decided to check the rooms. If she looked like she was doing something then no one would bother her. The first room she entered was dark like the hallway, when she lit her wand she saw all the furniture was covered in white sheets and dust was piled everywhere. Coughing slightly she closed the door.

The next three rooms were the same. The fourth was locked, but the fifth was the diamond in the ruff. The door was slightly ajar and looked as if it had been hastily hexed. Countermanding the hex was easy enough and she opened the thick door with ease. What was so important it was worth guarding? Her curiosity pulled her into the large study. A huge oak desk sat at the end of the room next to rows and rows of large dusty leather-bound books. She strode to the desk, curiosity getting the better of her. What was on the desk intrigued her, it was a large piece of parchment that looked to be a hundred years old. It was long and curled at the ends suggesting it was once rolled into a scroll. Gingerly she picked it up so she could read the faded words:

_After the Boy Who Lived vanquishes the Dark Lord for the second time, One will be born of the Seventh and the First, of Fire and of Ice, of Poor and of Rich, One that will destroy the Darkness for a final time. But if the One should fall into Darkness, all will be consumed by the Night and the Light shall never conquer the Darkness again. _

This was a prophecy. She knew it. She glanced at the top and saw initials and a date (about a hundred years in the past), all the makings of a prophecy.

Pansy reread the contents of the prophecy, committing it to memory before setting it back down on the desk. Now she knew _why_ that one specific kid was so special.

* * *

Finally, room 246. Draco had had a horrible time trying to find the stupid hospital. He took a cab, which was a huge mistake since most cabdrivers in Cairo don't speak English and Draco only knew four words in Arabic. Bathroom, Airport, Food and Hospital. The last one came in handy, but his accent was so awful that he had to say it ten times before the burly driver knew what he was saying. Then Draco had forgotten the name of the hospital Ginny was at so the man took him to every hospital in Cairo. And there were a lot of them. Finally, after two hours of frustrating nurses and wrong hospitals they had found the one she was in, and the nurse spoke English…sort of…but together they figured out what room she was in.

Draco opened the door to the room, the light wasn't on so Draco switched the flip to see Ginny strapped down to the bed as her head lolled from side to side, and her eyes wide open. She wasn't jerking anymore, whatever they had dripping into the tube plugged into her hand seemed to be working.

Draco's heart ached, he felt so helpless and so small. Why would Lord Voldemort do this to her? Why would anyone attack Ginny? Draco gently cupped her hand in his.

As soon as his hand touched her hand, her head stopped rolling and she looked directly at him.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered almost inaudibly. She closed her eyes and tears started leaking out from under her lashes, "Oh, momma I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to…just happened…why did he leave me, momma?" Draco just sat there listening to her almost unintelligible ramblings, wondering what they were all about…until he heard the last part. He stiffened and tried to take his hand back, but as soon as he tried to pull it away she gripped harder. "Pregnant, momma…help me…only part of Draco left…he doesn't know…his son…name him Felix…Felix…"


	6. Into the dark depths

"What did you call me?" The boy called Michael asked in a whisper, not because he wanted to be quiet, but because he felt like that was all he could push out of his mouth. As soon as Mordecai had said "Felix" pieces of the past started filtering in.

"You're name, young master, is Felix, not Michael as you believe it to be." They were flying now, above the wispy clouds, darkness stretching out on all four sides. Felix clung to the large man. Though he was not afraid of flying, he was afraid of the dark. He would never admit it to anyone but his mother. _My mother…_Mich—_Felix is my name, not Michael, stupid._ When Felix thought of his mother a warm feeling spread from his chest to his fingers. It filled him up like a balloon ready to burst. A foggy image had formed in his mind of her, she had red hair and warm brown eyes with a smile that could make any night seem like the brightest summer day. _Do I have a father too? _No feeling came nor did any image.

"Who are you?" It seemed like a lame question, but one that he couldn't help blurting out. It was a few minutes before Mordecai, _if that's his real name, _Felix thought, answered.

"For now, I am Mordecai, you're servant, and the man who is your only chance of escape."

"Why do I need to escape?" Again, Felix had to wait for the mans answer.

"It is not safe for you to be near the Dark Lord. He is a dangerous man, especially to a boy such as yourself."

"Why are you-"

"It is now time for quiet. Noise attracts unwanted attention, and that is one thing we do not need." Felix felt frustration bubbling inside mixing with his unquenchable curiosity, but he knew Mordecai was right. If Felix was important enough to be rescued, then he was certainly important enough to be searched for.

Then, out of the black night, a bright green light streaked past Felix's right shoulder, missing him by only a few inches. Muttering what sounded like curses in a different language, Mordecai jerked the broom handle downward just in time for a second jet of light to shoot above them, right where their heads had been.

Felix twisted around on the broom to see who was shooting at them and almost fell off the broom in shock. About twenty witches and wizards on broomsticks had somehow snuck up on them, each one pointing their wands at them.

"Uh, Mordecai? We have a slight problem."

"How many?"

"I'd say about twenty, maybe more." Felix clutched Mordecai harder as he suddenly had an image of himself plummeting into the clouds below. "What are we gunna do?"

"Just hold on, and don't let go no matter what." Felix had to stop himself from saying "Duh!" and nodded instead, not thinking that Mordecai couldn't see him. Mordecai must of felt his head move because right when he agreed to hold on, the man veered sharply to the left and up, weaving around and through chunks of cloud. All the while red and green jets of light exploded around them.

Little shards of ice pierced Felix's face as Mordecai flew higher and sped through thicker clouds. It felt like his heart was pumping adrenaline more than blood as they dodged more and more spells and came closer and closer to being hit. It was amazing! Spectacular! His thighs were soar from having them clamped onto the broom so hard and his hands were frozen into fists around bunches of Mordecai's cloak, but he felt a jolt of excitement.

Mordecai spun the broom down as two floating shadows blocked his path. Four more appeared right below them, and Mordecai swore again, this time feigning right and veering left as six more flyers blocked them. There was nowhere to go! Felix's breath shortened. He didn't know why Mordecai had taken him, but all he knew was that he didn't want to go back to Voldie. When he thought about his supposed brother, a dark filthy feeling coated his insides, like tar. Then one of the shadows spoke.

"Give us the boy, Mordecai, we won't harm him. Just hand him to me and the Dark Lord will be merciful and let your death be quick." Mordecai growled. Felix just then noticed Mordecai was holding his wand and had it pointing at the man who had spoken.

"And why should I believe a lying slug like you, Malfoy? I know the Dark Lord's plans for the boy and I won't allow it. Not so long as I am alive." The man called Malfoy chuckled darkly.

"The can be arranged." The man raised his hand like lightning and started to say a spell, "Avada Ke-" But Mordecai had zoomed the broom forward, body slamming into Malfoy causing him to loose balance and to tumble screaming down into the darkness, and for Felix, grabbing desperately at Mordecai, to loose his grip and plummet to the same fate.

Cold, something cold was on his neck. Cold and wet and very unpleasant. _Stop it, I don't feel like swimming. _Nickel eyes squinted open and looked up into the face of an ogre. Draco pushed himself back with the palms of his hands and sat up, since he was now lying on a white linoleum floor. Something smelled of formaldehyde and rubber, two smells that did not mix well. His nose got that familiar itch.

"What ha-ha-ha-choo!" He sneezed, very unmalfoy like, and as gracefully as a soggy Malfoy could manage, rose to his full height of six foot four and towered over the nurse he had mistaken for an ogre. She was old, wrinkly and had five very crooked and yellowish brown teeth jutting from black gums. How a woman like that ever got a job in a hospital, Draco would never know. _Must be very rich or have a remarkable bedside manner. _He doubted the second option since she was staring wide-eyed at Draco as if he had grown horns and a tail. _Like she's never seen someone faint before. _

She mumbled something in Arabic and he was only able to pick out a few useless words like "you" and "what." Draco shook his head impatiently.

"No speak Arabic. English." He overemphasized the last word, hoping she knew what he was saying and go get someone who spoke English. The woman nodded and smiled. Not something he would have advised her to do.

"Yes, English, very good." She pointed to him. "You…eh…good? Not ill?" Draco rolled his eyes. Oh yes, this would get him very far.

"I'm fine," _I think,_ "I fainted." He pointed to his throat and made a motion with his hand symbolizing drinking. "Water?"

She just stared.

"Oh good God, you don't even understand simple hand gestures, do you? I bet I could say anything to you right now and it wouldn't make a lick of sense. Well, this woman whom I haven't seen in nearly ten has just confessed that she gave birth to my child! Almost ten years ago and she doesn't even bother writing! Not that it would have gotten to me, but it's the thought, isn't it? She lets me believe she had a child with another man! And here I am traipsing around Egypt to find the little bugger! Why?" Draco was yelling at the poor old woman who was backing away towards the door. Draco's eyes blazed like liquid fire, his mouth curling primly in rage.

"Because he's my SON! MY BLOODY SON!" The woman burst into gruesome tears and ran stumbling from the room.

"Right." That got rid of her now, didn't it? Draco took a breath and turned slowly to look at Ginny lying unconscious in the bed. _My son…_well that was something, wasn't it? He was a father. Without warning Draco's throat closed, eyes blurred and stumbling he thrust a hand forward to steady himself.

"I'm a bloody father." Saying it allowed was worse. How could _he_ be a father? The only role model for fatherhood he ever had was the world's greatest bastard, how could he, _Draco Malfoy_ be a father? He had to get out of there. Before Ginny awoke. It was best, for both of them. They both knew he would make a horrible father, he would only screw the kid up.

Draco gathered himself up, back straight, head high and smoothed his aquiline features into a slate of cold stone. Not looking at Ginny he turned and slid out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him. His shoes tapped the linoleum floor quickly as he unwittingly quickened his pace down the stark hallway.

The beast of a nurse Draco had made hysterical was cowering behind the reception desk clutching a paper cup full of a pink opaque liquid. Her eyes tightened when he approached as if she intended him bodily harm, but she didn't move. Only squinted in what she must have thought was a threatening manner. She obviously felt more secure with a desk and some large metal filing cabinets between them. Draco could not have cared less. He would be far away by the time she got up the courage to inflict him with whatever scenarios she was envisioning in her head.

Draco didn't even bother with the elevators, but sped down the dingy stairwell. He needed to be active. It didn't matter if the elevator was faster it felt too slow. He needed a real excuse for his heart to be pounding.


	7. My Decision is Fixed

*****Note to readers: **Sorry it's taken so long for an update, I just decided recently to finish this story. Updates will be coming regularly and quickly. Thank you for your patience!!*******

********

Draco burst out onto the dusty street in front of the hospital, his outward composure surprisingly calm and collected, though his mind still reeled. Draco walked, eyes fixed in front of him on nothing in particular. He didn't take any notice of the muggles shooting him offended looks as he refused to adjust his course to accommodate them.

My son. _My_ son…

The words echoed and pounded in his head, but he kept himself moving, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Darkness was beginning to fall on the bustling city as the sun slipped below the tall buildings.

Finally, he stopped as he saw a familiar large red building looming ahead of him, the stone sphinx on his left staring blankly ahead. Draco just stood there, glaring at the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, an internal debate raging inside of him. Should he enter? It seemed like a monumental decision. If he entered he was choosing to help find the boy- _his_ _son_. He forced the words out of his head, he needed to concentrate. If he walked away from the familiar building he would be ridding himself of the burden of fatherhood forever. He could just walk away and never look back. The boy would be better without him.

Step forward or walk away?

He made his decision and took a step.

***

Felix tumbled through the icy air, wind whipping his hair and clothes violently. His outstretched arms clutched at empty air and vaporous clouds. He was surprised to find his mind was clear as crystal and he wasn't screaming at all. Adrenaline pumped through him and he felt like he could do anything, even fly! But he knew he couldn't, he could just fall helplessly.

"Mordecai!" He yelled, but the wind took his words and swallowed them greedily. Lucius Malfoy fell limply below him, unconscious. Felix thought he looked as if he were sleeping, his cloak billowing around him like a blanket.

Felix could barely make out the landscape beneath him, it looked big and empty in the shadowy night. He started to panic a little and it came closer and closer. Looking up he couldn't make out anyone or anything against the dark, thick clouds. Just as his heart felt like it was going to climb out of his throat, something hard slammed into his back, or rather, he had hit something quite solid. The wind was knocked right out of him with a loud grunt.

"Uhh!" Felix managed. He knew he hadn't hit the ground, but the force with which he had knocked into this thing was really painful. His lungs felt like deflated balloons and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get air back into them! His hands flew to his throat in desperation, mouth gaping, as if to catch the air and trap it.

He heard a familiar voice, muffled as if from far away, muttering strange words. Suddenly, air burst into his lungs. It burned his throat, but he gulped at it gratefully regardless.

"I told you to hold on. Next time heed what I tell you." Felix smiled at the familiar rasp of Mordecai's exasperated voice.

"Thanks, Mordecai." Felix croaked. Mordecai easily shifted the boy back into a position behind the large man. Felix clasped Mordecai's robes in numb fists, breathing heavily, adrenaline still crashing in his ears.

"They will gather shortly, we must leave at once. Hold on tight this time." Mordecai growled the last words threateningly and leaned forward. The broom shot ahead with such force Felix almost fell off again. He wrapped his arms around Mordecai in earnest.

After a long while of weaving and darting through clouds, they slowed. Felix felt the adrenaline draining from him, he became very tired.

"Where're we going?" He asked again, though his words were slurred with fatigue.

"I told you, to your mother." Mordecai said, Felix could hear his patience running thin.

"Yea, but where's that?" Mordecai didn't answer right away. After some time he said, "Not far."

Felix shifted his weight, adventures were not nearly as fun in real life. He yawned, now feeling hollow without the adrenaline running through his veins. He slumped against Mordecai and gradually slipped into an uneasy sleep.

***

Pansy paused before the large double doors and composed herself. She had never been summoned by the Dark Lord personally and was extremely anxious, to say the least. Her hands shaking, she pushed open the wooden doors and stepped into the candle lit room. It was a large area with no furniture other than one chair set in the middle with a bubbling cauldron in front of it. She stepped forward, looking around for any sign of the Dark Lord.

Her shoes clicked on the hard floor and echoed sharply, but before she took more than three steps a smooth voice spoke behind her.

"Ah, Miss. Parkinson, do have a seat." Pansy clutched her chest in fright at the abruptness of the Dark Lord's presence. "Do not be frightened," the deep voice continued in her ear. Taking a deep breath she went to the chair and sat none too gracefully, fear getting the better of her. She crossed one leg over the other in an attempt to keep her knees from knocking together.

"Miss Parkinson," Voldemort said, stepping out of the shadows before her, she gaped at his beauty. His perfectly onyx hair shined in the candles glow and the sharp outline of his face could have made the Greek gods jealous.

"I require your services. It has come to my knowledge that you know the boy's purpose. The reason he is important in forming our new world order." Pansy's mouth went dry.

"My lord?" She asked, deciding to wait and see if the Dark Lord meant the prophesy. If so, she feared she would not see the outside of this room again.

"Do not pretend to not know what I am speaking of, Miss Parkinson. The prophesy," he hissed the last word, which reverberated around the room menacingly.

"Y-yes, my lord, o-of course." She stammered.

"The boy must be raised in the Dark Arts, but he will only trust those he loves." Voldemort said spitefully, walking towards the cauldron.

"I'm afraid I d-don't understand." Pansy said, her voice now a whisper.

Voldemort pulled out a small vial that glittered and glinted as the fire light touched it. He took out the cork and pulled out a single fiery strand of hair and held it between two perfectly manicured fingers. He let it fall into the caldron. The liquid inside bubbled ferociously and turned into a vibrant red, almost the same hue as the hair. With a jolt Pansy knew what was in it, polyjuice potion.

"I need you to be someone the boy can trust."

***

Cold air blasted him in the face as Draco opened the door causing his hair to dance and tickle his forehead. He swept the unruly locks away in one graceful motion and walked into the familiar building. He didn't even bother to look around but went straight to the stairs leading down into the basement.

He rounded the corner of the bottom step with such force that he almost knocked down the little curator, Mr. Quazeem. He was carrying so many ancient rolls of parchment that the short man could barely see around the stack. A few rolls fell to the floor with soft smacks.

"Oh my, Ramses, you frightened me, my boy." Mr. Quazeem said breathlessly. Draco frowned in confusion and then suddenly remembered his cover name, it felt like weeks since he had to hide his identity. With a mental reprimand, Draco stooped and picked up the parchment that that fallen to the ground.

He stood and handed the scrolls back to his friend. "Good day, Mr. Quazeem. I apologize for my sudden appearance. I need your help." Mr. Quazeem nodded somberly.

"Yes, I dare say you do. Come, we will talk." Draco was a bit perplexed by this answer, but followed the man into his office nonetheless. Draco closed the door with a soft click and waited until the old man put each scroll away in a different cubby on the wall. Draco had to clench his fists to keep his outward appearance patient. The longer they delayed talking about the blueprint, the longer Draco had to force the thought of having a son away- which was getting harder every second.

Mr. Quazeem sat and gestured for Draco to do the same. Draco sat with the fluidity of water and the tension of a tightly coiled spring. The curator took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he placed the glasses back on his face, he looked Draco square in the eyes.

"I suppose you have something for me to look at?" He asked. Draco kept his face blank and took out the worn blueprint, handing it to Mr. Quazeem without breaking his gaze. Mr. Quazeem unfolded the page and studied it carefully. He didn't make any sounds of recognition and stayed aggravatingly silent.

Draco was almost at the end of his patience when Mr. Quazeem set down the parchment and sighed heavily. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a wand. Draco's mouth almost fell open in surprise. His lips had even parted before he caught himself and clenched his jaw shut.

He tensed the rest of his body, ready for a fight. He could feel his wand in his pocket, did he have time to get it out? If he used the desk as cover, maybe…

But all thoughts of fighting vanished when Mr. Quazeem flicked his wand and a bottle of amber liquid and two dusty glasses appeared on the table.

"Would you like some fire whiskey, lad?" The old man saw the menacing glower on Draco's face and added, "Ah yes, I dare say I startled you. My apologies, but I thought if I was to tell you everything you might be more obliging with a bit of fire whiskey in you." He had filled the glasses and was now pushing one across his desk towards Draco.

"I assure you, it is not poisoned." Mr. Quazeem said then downed his own glass in one swift swallow and started pouring himself another glass.

"What do you mean, everything?" Draco asked his voice as smooth and dangerous as a blade. He didn't touch his fire whiskey.

"It is a long story that I fear I do not have the luxury of time to tell, but a brief version should suffice." He swallowed, glanced at the blueprint and shuddered.

"My name," he began softly, "is Sturgis Podmore. I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix and have been keeping an eye on you for quite some time." A shock rippled through Draco, like lightning had hit him and was clashing around inside of him. Innumerable questions started forming in his head, but he forced his face not betray even the least amount of astonishment. He honed his mind in on the fact that he had been watched, for how long Draco didn't know.

"You know who I am." It was not a question, but a threat.

"Ah, well, yes." The man who called himself Podmore said. "We had to know, of course. It hasn't always been me, you see."

"What do you mean?" Draco growled.

"There has always been someone guarding you, making sure you stayed hidden. This is my third time. I am sorry we had to be so clandestine, but you know how it is. If you don't know something then you can't tell of it. Each of us only knew enough to keep you safe. We didn't want you to know for your own safety." Draco understood that much, but that didn't mean he liked it. The idea of being followed and watched, knowing for sure now that he had been for nine years felt like a violation. He wanted to know of every single Order member who had been watching him. He wanted to make them pay.

"Why?" Draco seethed.

"Well, my dear boy, you are somewhat valuable and a member of the Order, after all. We take care of our own. We could not-" he broke off, then started with a different approach, "we wanted to protect you. You were, and still are, very young and headstrong." Draco retracted his lips in a sneer.

"I am not a boy, anymore." Draco narrowed his gleaming silver eyes, "how can I know you are who you say you are? Am I just to trust you, then?" The other man sighed.

"I do not know," Podmore looked very old, right then, sagging in his chair. "I am telling the truth. I do not know where to procure Veritaserum and it would take much too long to make some. You would not happen to know of a truth charm, would you?" Draco shook his head once.

"Well then, there you have it. You do not have to trust me, but I am who I say I am. If I wasn't, why haven't I tried to kill you all these times we've been alone?" _He has a point_, Draco thought, but that didn't mean he was ready to throw caution to the wind and whole heartedly trust this man. He felt as if he had been betrayed, he thought this man had been his friend, or something close to it, now he found he didn't even know who he was.

"What is the blueprint to?" He asked, getting back to the main point of the visit. Podmore blinked, and then shook his head little as if he had forgotten all about it.

"Oh, yes." He said and ran his hands over it, flattening it to the table. "It is most peculiar. It's more like a floor plan, than a blueprint." Podmore paused and peered at Draco over his glasses.

"How do you know of blueprints, they are of muggle design, are they not?" He asked.

"You forget I've been living in the muggle world almost nine years. I've learned things." Draco did not provide more. He had actually worked as a freelance construction worker in a couple different places, once he figured out how a drill worked. Even then, a little magic never hurt and the men who hired him could never figure out how he had finished the jobs so quickly.

"Right, of course you did." The little man said. "A floor plan, yes." He said absentmindedly. Draco was running out of patience.

"To what?" He snarled.

"Hm? Oh, to Numenguard." He said simply. Draco stood to his full height, which meant he towered over the slight man. He eyes burned with fury. The emotion staggered him, why was he feeling personally assaulted? And why would Pansy have a floor plan to Numenguard? If his son- he shook his head, dispelling that word- the boy was in Numenguard, Merlin help him. Draco's fists clenched and he shook with rage.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, if you will sit? There is more." Draco barely heard Podmore, he wasn't paying attention.

"Mr. Malfoy." Draco looked slowly at Podmore, the man flinched at the ferocity of that gaze. Draco raised an eyebrow, bidding him to say whatever he wanted to say.

"Well, you see how some of the lines are black and others red?" Draco nodded infinitesimally.

"It is highly unusual; I can only wager a guess. I would say it signifies walls or doors that are not present to any without knowledge of them being there. Or perhaps the opposite. I would hold on to this, for future reference. Where, if I might ask, did you find this?" He asked the last question very curiously, almost forgetting the death stare Draco was giving him.

"That," Draco said, snatching the parchment away from Podmore, "is none of your bloody concern. How do you know this is Numenguard?"

"I, Mr. Malfoy, have also learned a few things in my day." He said, with a somewhat haughty air. Draco gave a short laugh and rolled his eyes.

"Fair enough." Draco conceded. "It is getting late. I should be going, thank you for your help." He had to force the politeness into his voice. Podmore inclined his head and took Draco's hand, bending awkwardly over his desk to do so.

"Be safe, my boy. Don't do anything foolish, you hear me?" The mans blue eyes held Draco with such fervor that he reminded him of Dumbledore. Draco smirked.

"Do I ever?" He drawled. Podmore gave his hand a quick squeeze and let go. Draco gave him an acknowledging nod and then stepped out of the small office.

Draco felt like he had been in that cramped space for hours. He had learned more than he thought he would have. If Mr. Quazeem- _Podmore_- hadn't been a wizard Draco would have never found out that the parchment was of Numenguard. Goosebumps formed on his skin at the thought of that place. His father had scared him as a child with horror stories of Numenguard, threatening him with being sent there if he disobeyed him. Of course the threats had grown considerably worse as Draco got older, but Numenguard still held a dreaded and dark place in Draco's mind.

He made his was up the stairs and slowly outside, the museum guards were eyeing him warily since the museum had close about a half hour before, but they didn't say anything. The air was still warm outside as Draco stood on the front steps, gazing around at the night shrouded city. It was a huge city, but he had only seen a fraction of it. _Now is not the time for sight-seeing_, he thought sarcastically. The vast size of the city made him think he was being watched from all sides. He felt uncharacteristically paranoid. He had been cautious for nine years, not paranoid. This was not a feeling he liked. He put his hands in his pockets as he started down the stairs and stopped walking almost immediately. He felt something rubbery in his left pocket and when he pulled it out and saw what is was he hissed through his teeth.

It was the teacup shard in the rubber glove. He had forgotten to use it to lift the hex on Ginny. She could be dying without his help. How stupid he had been! He had been so wrapped up in the fact that the kid was _his_ that he had forgotten almost everything else. Growling, he stormed off to the hospital praying he wasn't too late.

***

Felix was bumped awake as the broom landed on solid ground. He rubbed his eyes drowsily, it seemed like he hadn't gotten more than a minute of sleep. His eyelids were still heavy with it. Mordecai was gently holding him up by the arm.

"Come along, young master. You're mother is most likely worried sick over you." Mordecai said flatly. Felix looked around at the small house and open yard. It looked like a small cottage on the top of a cliff, he could hear the ocean crashing on unseen rocks below. A warm wind blew in his face and a candle flickered in the small front window. Mordecai led him up the stony walkway and let go as they approached the blue door. Mordecai knocked.

At first nothing happened, then Felix heard movement inside and the door was flung open. A woman with dark red hair in a messy ponytail and red rimmed eyes peered out at them. She held her wand, the tip alight.

"Who are-" she began but abruptly cut off as her brown eyes traveled from Mordecai to Felix. "F-Felix? Is it…can it…oh, Felix!" She cried and flung her arms around the small boy. She sobbed into his neck and he clung onto her dressing down. She was exactly the picture in his head. She smelled like flowers and was warm. He hugged her so tight, he thought he'd never let go.

Finally, she pulled back, staring intensely at him, pushing the hair away from his face.

"Oh, my boy. _My_ boy. It's really you, I can't believe it. Oh, how I've missed you." She kissed his forehead. The way she said "my boy" was a bit odd, but Felix didn't care. It was his mother! After a minute or two, his mother stood, picking him up with her. She beamed at Mordecai, tears in her eyes.

"How can I ever thank you…" She trailed off, waiting for Mordecai to tell her his name.

"Call me Mordecai. I do not need thanks. His safety is enough." Mordecai looked to Felix, gave a small bow of the head and turned on the spot. With a pop, he was gone.

"Bye, Mordecai." Felix said to the empty night. "Thanks." Turning in his mother's arms to look at her and grinned. "Mom." He said, tasting the word on his tongue. It felt right. She smiled back.

"Let's go inside, shall we? We have so much to talk about, though I bet you're tired, aren't you?" Felix yawned widely in response with an "uh huh" mingled in it. His mom kissed his cheek and set him down on a soft couch. Felix snuggled into the pillow his mom placed beneath his head and relished the warmth of the blanket she tucked around him. She brushed his hair with her fingers again and whispered, "so much to talk about," as sleep consumed him.


	8. Finally Woken

_***~*~ **__**Please read and review!! It's been so long…please tell me what you think!**__** ~*~***_

A warm breeze blew at Ginny's back. Her eyes were closed, but she could smell wildflowers and hear birds singing. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She was in a meadow, a few trees speckled the landscape and rolling hills covered the horizon. Tall green grass and hundreds of different kinds of wildflowers speckled the meadow in every color as far as she could see. A sparkling stream trickled lazily and weaved its way through the field to disappear in the far off hills. It was her idea of heaven.

An arm encircled her waist. She wasn't startled by it, it felt like she had always known a strong arm would hold her soon.

"Good morning, my Ginny." A deep, velvety voice whispered in her ear. His cool breath made her shiver with delight. She turned in his arms and gazed up into silver eyes. He wasn't smiling, he hardly ever smiled, but he had a look in his eyes of pure contentment. He brushed her dancing hair out of her face and rested his hand on her cheek.

She had had this dream a hundred- no, a thousand times. But she didn't care. It was Draco. Her Draco.

She had her arms around his neck, her hands played with the white blonde hair at the nape of his neck. He studied her face, thumb stoking her jaw.

"Draco-" She said, softly. His pupils dilated as she said his name. She giggled at this reaction. She was probably the only person who could read Draco's minute facial expressions like a book.

She tore her eyes away from his beautiful face and pressed hers against his chest. She could hear his heart through the thin fabric of his shirt. He was wearing a soft long sleeved black shirt with white buttons down the middle. The top three buttons were undone to show his pale chest.

"I love you, Ginny. Now and forever." He said, his deep voice resonating in his chest. She hugged him tighter and then looked again into his eyes. Suddenly, he pulled away and took her by the hand.

"Come, I want to show you something." Laughing, she let herself be pulled by him across the meadow, to a small cottage that hadn't been there before, nestled between two large trees at the rivers edge. Vines and flowers grew up the stone walls and made the cottage look like something out of a fairytale.

They went inside, which was as charming as the outside and Draco led her into a small side room. It was painted light blue and had a small bassinet in the corner. Ginny tilted her head curiously and looked at Draco. He was gazing into the bassinet with a look on his face Ginny had never seen before. He looked joyous and surprised at his own amazing good fortune.

"Here is it," he said, touching the side of the bassinet. "I made it just for you and him." He said looking into the depths of the bassinet, "Do you like it?" Ginny pressed her hands to her chest, overwhelmed with the feelings that swelled within her. She walked gingerly over to the bassinet, not wanting to wake the child she knew was asleep inside. She put her arm around Draco and then looked down at their baby.

A rotting skull peered back up at her. The empty eye sockets teeming with maggots, crawling, writhing in the fleece blankets. Ginny screamed as burning pain lanced through her body.

***

Draco peered cautiously around the door of Ginny's hospital room. If she was awake he didn't want to deal with it. He wasn't ready for that. He had almost sprinted the whole way back to the hospital- it was all he could do not to just apparate right into the room itself. If the streets hadn't been so crowded he probably would have. One sure way to blow a wizard's cover was to disappear with a pop into thin air, that was one thing that always caught unwanted attention.

Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he saw Ginny sleeping peacefully. He edged into the room as slyly as a snake and closed the door with barely a click behind him. He pulled out the rubber glove with the teacup shard and untied it. He gingerly pulled the ends of the glove off from around it and place the hated thing on the small table beside Ginny's bed. He wasn't completely sure how to lift the curse, but he had a hunch. It was something he had seen his father do once. He sneered at the memory and snuffed it out.

Taking out his wand he cast a silencing charm around the room so no one would hear what was going on inside- just in case. He looked down at the clean white piece of ceramic; it looked so innocent glinting in the light thrown by the lamp in the corner. Snarling, he placed the tip of his wand violently onto the cup. As soon as he made contact, a black vapor rose off it, encircling the rod slowly, sinuously. Draco lifted his wand, carefully drawing the vapor up from the fragment and, muttering incantations, pulled it towards Ginny. He put the end of his wand to her temple. She let out a high, agonized scream and jerked violently against her restraints. He hadn't noticed before that her ankles and wrists were strapped to the bed, but now the blankets shifted around her he could see the brown cuffs. This made him furious, but he pushed it away as he did so many things. He needed to concentrate.

The vapor turned from a light consuming black to a gray. Encouraged by this, Draco chanted louder and concentrated all his strength into the spell. Ginny's screams became desperate and hoarse. Tears streamed from her closed eyes, it was clear she was in pain. Wrath Draco hadn't felt for years boiled inside his chest. His eyes blazed with it and his lips retracted into a growl. Sweat glistened on his forehead not only from the concentration and effort it took to dispel the curse, but from restraining himself to not destroy the whole building in a blind rage.

With the last of his strength he roared the last two words of the chant, "FINITE INCANTATEM!" The gray tendrils of liquid air turned a blinding white and burst, filling the room with light. Just as suddenly as it happened, it disappeared, leaving Draco blinking away spots from his vision. Ginny's scream also ceased as soon as the light was gone. Draco slumped, all energy drained, and caught himself on the edge of her bed. He pulled himself into the arm chair near the foot of her bed and with one final glance at his sleeping Ginny let himself succumb to darkness.

***

"I don't get it." Felix said, confused. His mother let out a frustrated sigh and explained again.

"They're like animals, darling. Their feelings are not like ours, they don't feel pain or sadness. They are savage, violent and dumb."

"But they look like regular people. Like us." He said hesitantly, almost like he wasn't sure this was true. His mother gave him a sad smile.

"Yes, they do, but you must remember that if they could they would kill us without even blinking. Muggles don't feel remorse, love or happiness. They were made to work, they're lucky to have us to take care of them." She said, brushing his hair with her hand.

"Yea, I guess." Felix frowned. He had thought that muggles were just like wizards, but without magic. He remembered living among muggles for a little bit when he was younger, they had seemed so normal then…

"I know it's hard to understand, my little one. But with time, you will see I am right." She said this affectionately, and Felix gave her a small smile. Ever since they had been in this cottage, his mother would get into these foul moods sometimes- they came out of nowhere- but Felix thought she seemed patient today, so ventured another question.

"But they seem so normal. Why is that?" His mother nodded.

"Yes, they can mock any action they see. It looks like they care for one another, but in truth all they can comprehend is violence and cruelty. They're very good pretenders. Remember when we pretended to be dragons?" Felix laughed at the memory of his mother chasing him around the cottage, arms flapping like wings.

"We weren't really dragons, were we? No, we just pretended. It's much like that; they pretend to be something they are not very well. Do you understand?"

"Yea, it's just hard to think about it that way." He said, tucking his legs under himself on the couch.

"I know, it took me a long time to accept it too. I used to think they were people, just like us. But I soon realized how wrong I was. Do not feel sorry for them, they are fulfilled by hard labor." Felix felt this was not quite right, but didn't argue. Who was he to question his mummy? He was only nine. Well, almost nine.

Since arriving at the isolated cottage, his mother had insisted giving him lessons everyday. She said he'd be starting Hogwarts in a less than two years and he should be ready.

"What about muggle-borns?" He asked, again. His mother pursed her lips.

"They are no better than muggles. The only difference is that they have stolen magic from other wizards and witches. They are, perhaps, the most talented deceivers of them all and despicable." She spat the last word in anger. "They do not understand the gravity of their crimes, only that we have something they desire. Power and pain, Felix, that is all they feel." He blinked.

"Oh, right. I forgot." This was the first time she had shown anger at the mention of muggles or muggle-borns. Though, he seen her hide it. He wondered why she hated them so much.

"Can I go outside, now?" His mother smoothed her face and smiled warmly.

"Of course, but I expect you back before dark." He gave her a hug, which she returned strongly and dashed out the front door.

***

Pansy watched the little twirp run off and slam the door behind him. She let out a long sigh and massaged her temple. It had taken every skill she possessed to keep from pummeling the kid. He asked an endless amount of questions and never seemed to understand her explanations the first time. She pulled herself up off the couch and went into the kitchen. She opened the highest cupboard and pulled out a wooden box with a small round lock snapped on the front.

She pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered a low _alohamora_. The locked clicked open. Inside were hundreds of vials of a thick bright red liquid. She uncorked one and downed the disgusting stuff in one gulp. She felt herself change only slightly under it's effects. It had only started to wear off in the last few minutes. She felt her hips widen a little and her breasts get smaller. The Weasely girl was also a few inches smaller and had shorter, thicker hair. Pansy's brown hair was long and straight, almost to her rear; the other woman's was only to her mid-back and wavy. The other differences Pansy couldn't feel happening. The freckles dotting her face, her eyes turning from almost black to a chocolate brown which she didn't even notice until she startled herself in a mirror.

If anyone but the Dark Lord had asked her do this she would have _Crucio'd_ them until their ears bled. She gave a wicked smile at the thought. She truly hated looking like the Weasley brat everyday. She had been shocked, to say the least, to see that this was who she was turning into. Draco had a kid with _her?_ The dog.

She admitted the Weasley girl did have a nice figure, if not a little curvy for Pansy's taste. But how had he stomached even touching a blood traitor, let alone having a kid with one? She knew Draco had betrayed the Dark Lord and was now a bloody Order member, but she never fathomed he had gone this far. She shivered, not even allowing herself to picture it.

She looked out the window over the stone sink and grimaced. The child was playing in the mud, which meant he had to be bathed later. She despised this motherly act, she vowed never to have children. Watching the boy dirty himself, she smiled slightly. He looked so much like Draco. His silvery blonde hair shone in the setting sunlight and he was slight, like his father had been at that age. Sometimes when she was teaching him, she saw a glint of Draco's mischief in his eyes. Those were the only times she actually enjoyed his presence.

She thought he was getting better at his lessons- he trusted her. She smirked- something the Weasley girl's face was not used to. Of course he did, he thought she was his _mummy. _The Dark Lord had told her that all she needed to do was make him enjoy the Dark Arts. That hadn't been so hard. Sure, he still cringed whenever she tortured a bird or squirrel in front of him, but he no longer cried out and tried to shield the animal. They had plenty of time to turn him. He was slowly coming over to the Dark Arts. Soon enough, he would fulfill the prophesy and darkness would reign the earth. She grinned and madness glinted in her eyes.

***

Ginny opened her eyes and blinked, trying to clear her vision. She felt weak and exhausted, like she had fought a battle instead of just woken up from sleeping. Her muscles ached and were tense. _What in Merlin's name happened to me? _She tried to lift her hand to her head, but found she was restrained. _No… no, I will not be a prisoner!_ She struggled harder, adrenaline starting to pump though her body. She cried out in anger as the bonds held tight.

Suddenly, Draco was at her side.

"Shh, it's ok, Ginny." He said, placing a cool hand on her arm.

"Why am I restrained?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

"You were…sick." He said, pausing between words. "A curse, I think." Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

"What? A curse?" She tried to remember, but everything was hazy. She remembered Felix being taken, finding Draco…

"Felix," she whispered, then said, "Felix!" Again, more urgently. She searched Draco's face, his mouth tightened and he had gone pale when she had said her son's name. She tried to sit up, but found it impossible. Draco seemed to realize what she was doing and placed his wand on her hand cuffs. They fell away instantly. He did the same for the ankles. Ginny rubbed at them absently and continued to study Draco.

He looked uncomfortable, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Of course, if anyone else would have looked at him, they would have seen a perfectly calm face. But Ginny knew better.

"What happened, Draco? Felix, is he…" She trailed away, her voice breaking.

"Nothing, everything is the same. Sorry. No new leads." He said, rather icily.

"How long have I been here?" She asked, almost afraid for the answer.

"About half a day." He answered curtly. Ginny sighed with relief, she had been scared it had been days or weeks even. She frowned at him, finally noticing his weird behavior.

"What's wrong with you?" Was he angry because she had been cursed? No, he probably didn't care. _Then why is he here? _A little voice asked in the back of her head.

"Who cursed me? Deatheaters?" Draco stiffened even more, if that was possible.

"Doesn't matter. We need to find the boy and then you two can get out of here." Ginny gritted her teeth at his snide tone. So that was it, the faster they found Felix, she sooner they'd leave him alone again. But why was he avoiding the question about who cursed her? She decided to leave it alone for now, Felix was more important.

"Of course, any suggestions as to what we should do next?" Draco shifted his weight minutely. A sign that he knew something he wished he didn't. Ginny's heart almost froze, but then he pulled out a worn piece of old parchment from his pocket and tossed it on her lap. She opened it.

"And this is?" She asked, confused.

"Something I found, I think it has something to do with Fe- the boy." He stumbled over Felix's name and Ginny saw plain on his face, for the first time, the battle he was fighting inside. Something was wrong. What would have Draco this bothered?

Then it came to her in a sudden realization. Shock and fear slammed into her like twin bludgers.

He knew.

How, she didn't know, but he knew. She swallowed and placed the parchment back onto the blanket covering her legs. Her hands were shaking- she balled them into fists and buried them in her lap. Ginny forced her face into calm serenity and looked up at Draco, her brown eyes meeting his burning silver ones.

"You know, don't you Draco." It wasn't a question. His eyes widened slightly.

"I-what? No-I…know what?" He said, trying to cover his tracks. Ginny folded her arms across her chest and bore into him with her stare. Draco swallowed, but said nothing.

"You're going to make me say it and then you're going to act all shocked. I know you know. You forget I know you, Draco." He met her gaze and they locked glares for a few moments. Finally, Draco made a disgusted sound.

"Yes." He drawled, reminding her of his younger self. "I know about the boy being mine." He said it calmly and Ginny was impressed by the indifference in his eyes. Icy dread and immense sadness filled her.

He knew.

He knew and he didn't care.

She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would not cry. She promised herself she would never shed a tear over Draco Malfoy again and she wasn't going to break it now. She cleared her throat. Draco was looking out the window, apparently fascinated by the birds hopping on the ledge.

"How did you find out?" She asked was surprised to hear the coldness in her own voice. He didn't answer right away, he watched the birds argue over who would get a particularly shiny piece of tinsel for its nest. When they flew off, one squawking after the other, he turned his mercury eyes on her.

"You told me, Ginny. While you were...sick." His mouth twisted into a snarl at the word 'sick.'

"Ah, well then, I am sorry you found out that way." When he didn't respond, she continued, "I don't expect anything from you, Draco. You can go back to your life when we leave." He still didn't say anything. He just stood there, arms stiff at his side, chin held high, jaw tight, for a long time. They stayed like that for a while, her fidgeting with a thread on her blanket and him staring stonily out the window. Finally, after about twenty minutes Draco asked her a question she had assumed he already knew.

"When did it happen?"

"The, uh, last night you were at the Burrow." She said, feeling her cheeks grow hot. The memory was still strong, like it had happened only recently. Ginny risked a peek at Draco through her lashes. Draco's lips twitched, holding back a smile. She had to hold back a grin of her own, that small amount of emotion he had shown was as good as him laughing out loud and dancing a caper.

***

Draco had suppressed a smile when Ginny mentioned their last night together. That was one for the books, hands down the most passionate night of his life. He had been struggling to keep his outer demeanor clam, while inside raged a storm. Too many feeling he had never thought himself possible of were threatening to overwhelm him. It was all he could do not to break out into a violent frenzy or laugh hysterically- both seemed appropriate. He didn't know what was happening to him, was he going mad? If he was, he decided, it was all the kid's fault.

He glanced at Ginny and saw her face was scarlet. He had to stop himself from smirking. So she remembered too, did she? Eyes becoming unfocused, he let himself fall into the memory of that night.

_Draco had waited until everyone was asleep, which had taken longer than expected. Potter and the Mudblo- Granger wouldn't get off the bloody couch in the Burrow's sitting room. He had, however, found it mildly interesting when Potter had kissed her and instead of resisting she kissed him back with intense fervor. Draco smirked and sank back into the dark corner as the two clumsily made their way up the crooked stairs together, arms entwined in one another. Weasely would not be too thrilled about this new development. _

_Once they had retreated into Granger's room, Draco melted out of the corner and made his way silently up to Ginny's door- which was a feat in itself; those stairs creaked more than Weasley's Aunt Muriel's bones on the coldest night in winter. _

_His heart started to pound as he stood before her door and his breath came faster and shallower. He had struggled with whether or not to say good-bye, he was terrible at those, and they never came out right. Ginny and he had spent a few passionate nights and secret encounters together while the rest of the family paid more attention to Order business. Draco had felt things for her that he had never felt for anyone else. He had tried to deny it, of course, but he constant presence made me realize the truth of those feelings. Feelings he never thought he was capable of or deserved. He felt…warm…around her. Like sunlight emanated from her hair, fingertips, lips…and when he was with her, he was lucky enough to be engulfed in her light and forget all the horrors of his life before her. _

_He knocked on her door once and it swung open instantly, light momentarily blinding him. A nimbus surrounded Ginny's tear streaked face as the light from a lamp shined from behind her. He let himself revel in his metaphor come to life and almost smiled. Before he could speak, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, he could feel the wetness of her eyes soak though his thin shirt._

"_If you left before saying good-bye I would have hexed you so bad the Deatheaters would have been jealous." She said, glaring up at him, her chocolate eyes blazing with the intensity of her emotions. Draco reached up and gently stroked her damp cheek with his thumb. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing. They stayed like that for a moment, just relishing each others touch. _

"_Ginny-" he began to whisper but was abruptly cut off by her hungrily pressing her lips to his, he submitted her kiss as one submits to a hurricane: they let themselves be swept away by the torrent. _

_He pushed her with his body back into her room, kicking the door shut with his foot. His shirt was already unbuttoned and he smiled against her lips- she was a sly one, and his affection and need for her swelled alarmingly. _

_They fell in a heap onto her bed, his strong form pressing against hers, his hand tangled in her fiery tresses while the other explored the rest of her. Her skin was soft and smooth as the finest silk and she tasted of strawberries. _

_Together, the rest of the night, they made love more passionately than ever before. They were aflame by the immediate circumstances looming over them. He would be leaving with the sunrise and this was their last night together- maybe forever. _

_Draco had been with other girls before, but it had never been like this. When he was with Ginny, just near each other, the world fell away, all his worries, fears...nothing mattered but her. _

_That night their bodies created a fire that would burn in him eternally. They fell asleep in each others arms, her head resting on his chest, her nose tickling his bare collarbone. He savored this moment and knew he would be hers forever. _

"Draco?" He looked over at Ginny, she was watching him curiously with a slight, knowing smile on her face. Draco matched her stare with one eyebrow raised.

"What?" He said hearing the slight annoyance in his voice. Ginny put on a stern face and raised an eyebrow, mocking his expression.

"Nothing, Draco. Absolutely nothing. Like I said, I don't expect anything from you. It's not like you could be his father." A sharp pain shot thought Draco's chest. Her words had hurt him, deep. Why? He didn't want to be a father- he _couldn't_ be a father. He hadn't even met the kid. Ginny and the kid were doing fine on their own, weren't they? _Then why did they come here? _Asked an annoying little voice. Draco narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he looked at Ginny- really looked. Her beauty had matured over the nine years and she was more beautiful now than she had been at 16- her hair was a darker red and her cheekbones more defined- but now he saw the purple circles under her eyes and the small worry lines at the edge of her mouth.He crossed his arms, determined to find out once and for all why she had some all this way to find him.

"Why are you here?" His voice was harsher then he intended, but he met her eyes unblinkingly. He was pleased to see his question catch her off guard. She open and closed her mouth without sound and looked around the room as if hoping someone would come to her aid. When no one did, she swallowed and looked up at Draco tentatively.

"I wanted to know you were safe, I guess." She said, weakly. Draco was unconvinced. He could always tell when Ginny was lying, she always bit her lip like she was doing now. He smirked a self-satisfied smirk.

"Ginny, why are you here?" He asked again, his voice soft as cold iron. Ginny looked wretched, like she was struggling with something internally. She was clenching her jaw so tight Draco was afraid she would crack her teeth. Draco waited patiently; hands now clasped behind his back, face a calm mask. He needed her to say it, to admit it. He knew why she had come; he knew she still loved him. But the longer she stayed silent, the more doubts wheedled their way into his mind.

Ginny closed her eyes, shook her head and opened them again. She licked her lips and looked at her hands. Finally, she looked right into Draco's serene eyes.

"I came here," She started slowly, "because I-" but before she could finish the door banged open and a dark haired nurse entered with a tray. She stopped, looking startled. She turned her head from Ginny to Draco in obvious confusion. She said something in Arabic and seeing Draco's impatient and snarling face stuttered a few words of English.

"You better now? How you better? She asked uncertainly. Ginny smiled and gestured to herself.

"I'm better, yes. Thank you. You needn't to worry." The shock seemed to wear off slightly and the nurse shrugged, speaking rapid Arabic under her breath. She set the tray with two small cups on the table next to Ginny's bed, knocking the teacup piece onto the floor. She didn't seem to notice, but turned, still talking to herself and wandered distractedly out of the room. Once she shut the door behind her, Draco turned back to Ginny, his face dark with frustration.

"As you were saying?" But Ginny was struggling to get out of bed. Before Draco could stop himself he gracefully stepped over and took her by the arm as she stood. She stumbled on her unsteady feet and he caught her as she fell onto his chest. The moment was slightly awkward as she stayed in his arms a bit longer than was probably necessary. Draco and Ginny looked at each other, her brown eyes wide and her skin soft. Ginny's lips parted and Draco cleared his throat, pushing her gently away.

"Draco," She said quietly, still very close to Draco. "I, I need to tell you…" she started, hesitating slightly. Draco's throat went dry.

"Yes?"

"Oh, heavens. I love you, Draco. I love more than life itself, alright?" She said strongly, crossing her arms rebelliously as if daring him to challenge her. Draco felt like his body had turned to water. Her words repeated in his head, making him lightheaded. He backed away from her and turned to look out the window. He needed to take some time to compose himself. If Draco had thought he knew what it was going to be like for Ginny to tell him what he's wanted to hear for nine years- he was wrong.

He felt her hand on his shoulder. It rested there for a moment, but when Draco didn't turn to acknowledge it she took it away. His skin tingled under his shirt where it had been.

"I'm sorry I said anything. I understand if you want to leave. It's ok." She said diplomatically. Draco turned sharply to face her, Ginny's face was startled by his sudden liquid movement, eyes wide, mouth open. He gripped her shoulders forcefully.

"Draco, what-" But Draco cut her off before she could finish.

"No, Ginny, listen. I know you think I can't be his father, and Merlin knows I'd probably be horrible at it, but I'm not going anywhere." He surprised himself to find he meant it.

"Damn it, I'm his father and I'm sure as hell going to be better at it then mine was." He gave a low, short laugh at that. A pumpkin pasty would have been a better father than Lucius. Ginny opened her mouth, but Draco continued before she had time to say anything.

"You drive me crazy and I don't know why you didn't tell me about him, but Merlin help me, I love you. Nothing I can do about that and nothing I want to do about it." Her eyes softened as he spoke and had small tears in the corner when he finished. He loosened his grip on her shoulders and brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead and tucked them behind her ear. He lifted her chin with is hand and slowly, surreptitiously, lowered his lips to hers.

As they touched for the first time in nine years, his world exploded. Lights danced behind his closed lids and waves of warmth rippled down his arms, back, and legs into his fingers, toes and to the top of his head. He was _alive_. His heart swelled to the point of being painful, but he ignored it and allowed his lips to move with hers. She kissed him back with extreme enthusiasm. Her hands gripped his hair, as did his in hers. Her tongue was warm and tasted of strawberries, though he didn't know how this was possible- and didn't care.

She was more than he had dared to dream of.

***

As Draco kissed her, Ginny melted. The hospital room, her worries for Felix, everything just melted away. Nothing mattered but Draco. He was kissing her, as he had a million times in her dreams and fantasies. But it was far more that her dreams and overshadowed every fantasy.

His hands tangled in her hair and one ventured down her back to pull her closer. She clung to him with a desperation and a need that had been buried inside herself long ago. The careful walls she had built seemed to crash down and all the feelings that had been walled up inside was thrown into that kiss.

He tasted as he always had, she found to her great pleasure, of lime and mint. She moaned against him, which made him kiss her even stronger, if that was possible. Ginny's mind was numb, all thoughts slipping away. The world didn't exist under that kiss.

***

Lucius Malfoy was in pain. He would never admit this to anyone, but as he was alone, he let a grimace twist his sharply featured face. The Dark Lord had forbidden his wounds to be healed magically and even made Zabini bind his leg in something called a 'brace'. He had been humiliated having his broken leg bound like a muggle and the Dark Lord knew. Zabini just smiled cruelly and hadn't even tried to be gentle. Now Lucius had to find the Weasley girl and Draco or the Dark Lord would do more than refuse to heal him. His orders were to kill the two when found and Lucius was eager to do so. Anything to be in the Dark Lord's good graces once again.

It had come as a shock to learn his son had a _child_, and from a blood traitor. He growled. At least the child was pureblood. That was a comfort, if only a small one. He didn't know what the Dark Lord intended for this child, only that he was a priority and killing his _parents_ was of great importance. The Dark Lord would have seen to it himself, but he had more important things to attend to, he was sure. But Lucius had plans of his own.

He would kill Draco, he had longed to ever since the boy had betrayed his own family and the Dark Lord, but he would keep the Weasley girl alive. The Dark Lord didn't realize how valuable she could be. She could be the key to finally destroying the Order. The Dark Lord relished killing too much, Lucius dared to think. Nothing wrong with doing away with rubbish, but sometimes the Dark Lord ignored the advantages of keeping prisoners.

There was a knock at the door.

"You may enter." Lucius said. Zabini came into the room, dark and tall in dark green robes with two silver striking serpents embroidered on the high collar. He had a regal air about him that annoyed Lucius. Zabini may be pureblood, but he was not as high in the Dark Lord's favor as he seemed to act. He conceded a bit in his mind that no one was high in the Dark Lord's favor lately, but that would change when Lucius's plan came to fruition.

"I came to check on your wounds. I may not be allowed to be heal them by magic, but they can be tended to." Zabini did not look pleased with this notion or with the fact that he was Lucius's private nurse. He came forward reluctantly, as if Lucius was a particularly nasty kind of insect, and started to unwrap the bandages around his leg. Lucius kept his face blank and calm, though he wanted to wince and hit something. The bandage was cleaner than the last time his wounds were cleaned. The bone in his leg had protruded through the skin from his fall and his arm had popped out of the socket from grabbing the first tree branch he could. He also had three broken ribs and a concussion- according to Zabini who apparently learned all this from his time living with muggles- something that made him despicable in Lucius's eyes. There were other cuts and gashes, but none as bad as the other things.

"Your leg looks better," Zabini said grudgingly. "How does it feel?"

"It feels just fine." Lucius growled through his teeth. Zabini gave him a cool look suggesting that he knew better than to believe Lucius's lie, but he didn't say anything.

"Can you tell me, Zabini, why the Dark Lord sees fit to keep his most faithful servant alone in this bloody room for days with no word?" Lucius said, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. Zabini smirked, something he had learned from Draco.

"Perhaps you are not his most faithful, Lucius." He answered in a mocking solicitude. Lucius didn't rise to the bait.

"What is the Dark Lord planning? Tell me, Zabini." He said, smoothly, not taking his eyes off the man. Zabini continued to clean the gash in his leg, but Lucius saw him tense.

"I believe he will tell us soon enough, he is holding a meeting of the Deatheaters tonight." Lucius almost grabbed Zabini by the throat, but instead he only allowed a small sneer to steal across his face. He hadn't known about the meeting. Why hadn't he been informed about it? He didn't understand why the Dark Lord was punishing him so much for something that wasn't his fault. He hadn't let the boy escape- Mordecai should have been punished, not him. But Mordecai sat at the Dark Lord's right hand. This man who had seemingly come from nowhere had suddenly earned the Dark Lord's trust? It didn't make sense. Perhaps the boy had fallen to his death. But why would that win Mordecai favor? Lucius could not work it out in his mind. He needed more information.

"When should I be there?" Lucius asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question. Zabini raised his head from Lucius's wound.

"You? I do not believe you need to be there at all." He said, smiling wickedly. Lucius did grab Zabini by the throat. Lucius stared coldly into Zabini's eyes. Molten silver burning into liquid blue. Zabini blinked rapidly in astonishment. Lucius's smile did not reach his eyes.

"I will be there, Zabini, and you're going to tell me at what time I should arrive." He voice was low and dangerous. Zabini had a small bead of sweat trickling down his brow.

"I believe if you arrive an hour past sunset you will be there sufficiently early." His voice didn't betray the fear in his eyes, though it did come out a bit choked. Lucius released the man's neck with a shove. Blaise massaged his throat, white hot anger marring his handsome face. With a violent tug on Lucius's clean bandages he tied them hastily and stood to leave, straightening his coat. Lucius just sat back on the sofa with a smug look.

As Zabini left in a huff, Lucius forced himself to stand. He limped over to the large open double doors the led out onto a large balcony. He looked out over the Egyptian desert, at the small peaks in the distance that were the mighty pyramids. He gritted his teeth in determination and put his full weight on his broken leg. He almost blacked out from the pain, but pushed though it with a shake of his head. He was going to find the blood traitor and his _son_, it was only a matter of time.


	9. Desperate Fools

Felix could feel his mother's eyes on his back, he got goose pimples up and down his arms. There was something off about her. Ever since coming here, his dreams had been odd and warped, not the exciting and fun dreams he was used to. Maybe he was being a baby, thinking that had anything to do with how weird his mom was acting, but he couldn't help but think it.

He was playing in the newly made mud from the previous night's rain and having a good time when something caught his eye. Felix stopped forming the mud into a castle and squinted over to his left. Something gleamed in the sun over near a clump of trees. There was only a faint flashing for a couple seconds and then it stopped.

After a few moments of nothing, he shrugged and continued building his battlement. He was having too much fun to stop now! But just as he stuck a crooked stick into the top turret, he saw it again out of the corner of his eye.

Curiosity finally peeked, he got up and made his way across the garden to the trees. He was going to check it out, it could be something cool, after all, like lost treasure or forbidden magical object! Without realizing it he started to run towards the shaded area. He came upon a mass of bushes with thick thorns. He scanned the bush and after a minute or two he saw, to his delight, the thing glinting in the sunlight an arms length away next to a large stone.

From the part he could see, it looked like a metal wristband, thick and silver with small-engraved swirls around the edges. He bit his lip, thinking. Where had it come from? Was it his mother's? It didn't look like something she would wear, she never wore jewelry...at least she never used to. He decided it was too cool just to leave it there.

Felix reached for it, but found that it was too far into the bush for him to grab. He picked up a nearby stick. Jamming his arm up to the shoulder into the thorns, he hooked the bracelet onto the end of the branch and hoisted it carefully out of the bush.

It looked new and shiny. He carefully stroked his finger along the soft edge, and when nothing horrible happened, he undid the small clasp and snapped it around his wrist. It fit perfectly. He decided it was an Egyptian armband, not a bracelet. It went up half of his forearm and conformed perfectly to it. He smiled and thrust his arm out in front of him.

"Dun dun DUN! The strong and powerful Felix, bestest wizard ever in the world with his magic armband that makes him invincible! Watch out, you evil fiends! I will defeat you!" He hopped around for a while, until the sun was on the horizon, pretending to fight invisible enemies and defeat evildoers.

"Felix! Supper is ready!" Felix stopped playing and sighed. He used to love him mom's cooking, but now it wasn't as good. She burned it more often than not and when she didn't, Felix wished she had. He trudged back up to the house, but before he went inside he took off the armband and tucked it into a pocket. It made his pants bulged to the side awkwardly, but for some reason he didn't want his mother knowing about it. It was his secret lost treasure, not hers.

She was smiling with a flowery apron on at the edge of the kitchen. A steaming dish of something smelling like the dead fish sat on the neat table. Felix had to fight to keep from grimacing. He hated fish, she _knew _that. He sat reluctantly at the table, dragging his feet the whole way. His mother's smile never altered as she sat across from him.

"Would you like some fish stew?" She asked and he knew it wasn't one he was allowed to refuse. It was something his mom had always done when he didn't like a food. She would give him more- kind of as a joke- but she expected him to eat some of it, anyways. He understood that they didn't have a lot of money and his mom did what she could with the food they had. She didn't know that he understood this, but he did. He was a keen observer, that's what Uncle Harry said.

Felix nodded reluctantly and his mom dished out a heaping spoonful of the thick, smelling stew. Felix had to swallow hard to keep from gagging.

"Mmm," he managed. His mother smiled.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" She said, sweetly. Felix picked up his spoon and took a mouthful. He had to concentrate harder than ever to keep it in his mouth. The fish had an acrid taste- strong and salty and slimy. It was so gross. But he ate.

And ate.

All the while, his mother ate with him. His mother, who hated fish as much as he did. His memory was still fuzzy about some things, but he was sure about this. Something weird was going on. He had thought this for a couple days now. Maybe the same bad guys who took him were watching his mother, or maybe this was a prison and he and his mom were the prisoners but she didn't want him to be scared, so she played along. He didn't know for sure, but he was going find out.

***

Lucius entered the large room and found he was alone. He smiled, a thin small smile that never touched his eyes. He flicked his wand and a few dozen candles ignited along the walls. It was one of the largest rooms in the place, dusty from years of neglect. His footprints were the only pair in the thick dust coating the floor. With another wave of his wand the dust vanished and the cobwebs winked out of existence. This was where the Dark Lord would be meeting with the Deatheaters. Strange that he had chosen one of the rooms that hadn't yet been tended to. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. It was strange…

He whirled as he heard slow clapping from behind him. Zabini stood in the wide doorway, leaning casually against the frame, hands clasped in front of him.

"You should have seen the Dark Lord's face when he saw you weren't at the meeting." He made a clicking sound of disappointment. "Shame, it _was_ a very informative meeting. I think he may have some choice words for you…among other things." He grinned wickedly. Lucius snarled and threw up his wand.

"_Crucio!_" As Zabini countered with a loud, _"Pretago!"_

The shield charm blocked the unforgivable curse just in time and the two men stood across from each other, tense and ready.

"One thing you should know, however," Zabini said through clenched teeth. "Is that you have been reassigned and your old assignment is now my responsibility. Don't worry about having to kill your son and his blood-traitor whore. All you have to do now is heal. How _relaxing_ for you." He sneered the last part. Lucius let out a furious shriek. He was going to kill Zabini, he was going to make him cry for mercy like a child!

"I will not relinquish what is mine by rights! You will regret this, Zabini. Mark my words." Lucius said in a low, dangerous voice. But Zabini was laughing.

"Whatever you say, Lucius. Have a nice holiday." He winked and, still maintaining his shield charm, strolled out of sight. When he was out of range the charm dissipated.

Lucius let out another howl of rage, red and yellow sparks shooting from his wand. He was shaking with anger and hatred. He would show Zabini that Malfoy's kept their word. That when you decided to duel with a Malfoy, it wasn't over until one of them was dead. And Lucius would not yield so easily.

***

Felix shut his bedroom door behind him after saying goodnight to his mother and quickly jumped on his bed and pulled out the armband from his bulging pocket. He lit the large candle on the table next to his bed and leaned closer to the warm light. The polished silver glinted in the firelight and Felix brought the band up to his face, studying it. He noticed with sharp fascination that the swirls around the edges were little snakes and vines. The fire seemed to make them writhe and dance.

He sat back, smiling. This was the best treasure he had ever found. Way better then the broken seashell and dried seahorse he had discovered on the shore a few days ago. He bet it was super magical. He only had to find out what it did. Sometimes, in stories, the magical stuff worked only when the hero really needed it, and sometimes the hero never knew what it did until the need arose.

Felix hoped this armband wasn't like that; he was too impatient. He snapped it onto his arm, relishing the feel of the cold metal on his flesh and the way it formed perfectly to the curves of his arm. He thought he felt a slight tingling and goose bumps erupted all over his skin.

Suddenly, strange marks started to appear on the side of the armband. Felix's eyes widened and his mouth fell open as the jagged marks turned into words. It was in a harsh angular writing and took Felix a moment to realize it actually said something.

_You are living a lie. Be wary. Do not believe what you are told._

As soon as he read the sentence, it faded away. Felix leapt off his bed and grabbed a torn piece of parchment and a quill from the small desk by the window. He wrote the first couple words on the parchment and then suddenly stopped. He wasn't this stupid, was he? You don't write a secret message down! He smacked his forehead. Scratching out the words, he tore the parchment into tiny pieces.

He went back to his bed and sat down, pulling his soft brown blanket over his shoulders like a cape, wrapping himself in it. He looked at the armband and tried to think.

A secret message. Had it really been there or did he imagine it? He didn't know, but he decided to think about it as if it was true. Things could turn out worse if he ignored it.

It had said that he was living a lie. What did that mean? And to not believe what he was told? It was totally confusing, but one thing he did understand was that his suspicions were right. Something about this place was wrong. He didn't know what, but the message also said to be wary and he knew that meant to be careful.

So that's what he would do, he would be careful and as everyone in the Order said, have "_constant vigilance_." It came from Mad-Eye Moody, someone Felix had never met. But everyone always talked about him.

Felix took off the armband and put it under his pillow. Tomorrow he would start his official investigation about the mystery of this cottage. He blew out the candle and snuggled into the warmth of his bed.

***

Draco pulled away from a swaying Ginny and had to stare at a mark on the wall to focus his eyes and keep his balance. It felt as if fire was burning though his body in a rampage. Every nerve in his body was buzzing.

He looked down at Ginny. She was grabbing the bedrail in a white knuckled grip, staring unblinkingly at nothing. She seemed withdrawn into herself. Draco smirked. He still have that affect on her. She still had that affect on him.

Draco forced himself to regain his composure, he had not expected this. Malfoy's prided themselves in being prepared for anything- but who could be prepared for something like this? She had stormed back into his life and in a matter of days uprooted all his careful self-control and shaken his very foundation. She had once again pushed her way into a cold, hollow place within himself. A place that Draco only thought anger and pain could reside.

But Ginny Weasley had proved him wrong. She had barged in with her stubborn way and filled the hollowness inside him with warmth and strength beyond what he thought was possible.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his shirt, surprised to note a few extra buttons were undone. He chuckled to himself and redid them. She really did catch him off guard.

"Draco," He turned to see Ginny, eyes wide, staring at him. He frowned, she looked fearful. That wasn't the affect he was thinking of.

"What?" He asked, perplexed.

"Something…something is wrong." She said, sounding a bit unsure. This did not help with Draco's confusion.

"What are you talking about?" He kept the slight annoyance out of his voice, it was crazy how fast she could change his emotions.

"I…I don't know how to explain this…" She said, pausing and rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Draco noticed goose bumps prickling both arms.

"I just know something is wrong. We need to find Felix, quickly, or I think something horrible is going to happen." Ginny's face was white as a ghost and he wondered what she was not telling him. He could tell she was picking her words carefully, maybe not wanting to appear too shaken by whatever she had suddenly become aware of.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Should he comfort her? He hated to admit that however nice being near Ginny would be, it would be immensely awkward to assume a role ill-fitted for him. They had shared one kiss, he had to remind himself that that was all. Though she loved him and visa versa, but he would not assume anything. Draco stood there, arms clasped in front of him, face neutral.

"I'm sure everything's fine." He said, hoping that was good enough. Ginny gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists.

"Draco, we need to find my son…_our_ son. Now. Do you have any idea where he is?" Draco stared into her determined face and could see the fear them clearly. Should he tell her about Nurmengard? Maybe it had nothing to do with the boy…Felix. He was going to have to get used to that. He meant what he had said, he wasn't going anywhere. Family was _important_.

"I may know something about _Felix." _He said, trying very hard not to stumble over the name. Ginny scrutinized him for a moment.

"You _may_ know something?" She said, a bit harshly. Draco picked up the parchment from the floor, where it had fallen in all the…excitement…and handed it to Ginny. She pursed her lips.

"And this is? You never really explained it." She said quickly.

"It's a floor plan of Nurmengard. I…uh…pick-pocketed one of the brutes who came after me at my other flat." He said, proud of his quick thinking. "It might be where they're keeping…Felix."

"But what if he isn't there? What if it's a trap? Why would he be at Nurmengard of all places?" Ginny asked, getting more and more panicked with each question. Draco stepped over and put a hand on her arm. It was the least he could do. It seemed…natural, he was surprised to note. After all these years, she still felt like the only real thing in his life. She looked up at him, her face was like a book. Fear, anxiety, stress- every emotion plain to see.

She needed a plan, action would make her forget all these insane questions and keep her focused. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw.

"You are going back to my flat and I'm going to get supplies. You pack whatever things you brought with you and you should probably pay an extra night at the hotel, to cover your tracks. Make them think you're still here." She stared at him blankly, then blinked and nodded.

"Thank you, Draco." She said sincerely. He gave a wry smile.

"That's what I'm here for. Just meet me at the flat in an hour." He gave her arm a squeeze and turned to the door, before he left, Ginny called after him.

"I…love you, Draco." His throat tightened.

"We wasted too much time, I'm not going to waste more. The reality of this situation we're in is that one or both of us might not make it and I do _not_ want to regret my time with you. I'm going to tell you I love you as much as I want. Whether you like it or not." Draco turned, she had a determined look on her face, which frankly was adorable. But if she knew that, she'd likely sock him. He unstuck his throat.

"I love you too, Gin." Saying it like that was unbelievably liberating. He even grinned before closing the hospital door behind him.

***

Watching Draco leave, Ginny let her face brake into a tearful smile. Her heart was still fluttering from that kiss and her head was swirling. Despite all that, she still had this horrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Right after the kiss something had shifted inside her.

Something that had nothing to do with the kiss, herself, or Draco. Something about Felix.

It was like all the building blocks of her life had been lined up perfectly and now one was crooked and wedging itself sideways between the others- ready to fall. It was incredibly hard to explain, but she knew, without a doubt, that not only Felix was in danger, but the entire Wizarding world. Perhaps more…the entire human world.

She had no clue why. She needed someone with answers. She needed someone who knew a lot about the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She needed Harry Potter.

She laughed out loud at that revelation. Draco would never agree to that. He'd never accept help from his mortal enemy. Though they were in the Order together that did not mean they were friends, on the contrary, they hated each other even more. Harry still thought he was a git and Malfoy still thought Harry was a pompous idiot. But there had to be someone else they could go to for help.

She resolved to asked Draco about it when they met at his flat. She went and got her clothes and started to dress.

She dressed quickly, annoyed to find her blouse had a few tears in the sleeve, and left the hospital room, eager to be back in the real world. As she headed down the hall a woman behind a counter called out to her.

"Miss!" But Ginny only glanced at her and kept walking.

"Miss, you shouldn't leave, you're not fully recovered." The woman had a strong accent, but her English was very good. Ginny waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm fine, thank you." But the woman came out from the counter and stood in front of her, hands on her hips.

"You really should stay, we don't know what happened to you and until we do you're life is at risk." She had a look of genuine concern, but Ginny had to keep from rolling her eyes. She really didn't have time for this. She gave the woman her best mom face.

"I'm fine and I'm leaving. I understand your concern, but I really must go." The woman's dark eyes had a pained look, but she couldn't make Ginny stay. "I'll be ok, you don't need to worry." She said, side-stepping the nurse. The woman was not happy, to say the least, but she was helpless to do much else.

Ginny reached the stairs and flew down them. She burst out to the street and after a block had to slow and look around at where she was. Where was Draco's flat from here? She searched the buildings and found one that was familiar, though it was a bit in the distance. It was a large red building and she knew Draco's flat was about a mile or two away. She sighed. Aparating would be so much easier. Maybe if she found a secluded alley or corner she could apparate. She glanced around casually and walked at a normal, steady pace. There weren't many secluded alleys, all the one's she saw were completely visible from the street and without a back alley adjacent to it. Vexed, she kept looking as she made her way to Draco's flat. With her luck she would find the perfect alley two feet from Draco's place.

Ginny rolled her eyes. The anxiety tight in her chest kept growing worse and worse.

But they had a plan.

They were going to Nurmengard. Ginny shivered despite herself. It was a place no one knew too much about. It was an old prison, but it had been abandoned for years. Why would You-Know-Who having anything to do with that place?

Ginny glanced to her left and stopped, delighted. She was looking down a thin alley with a large dumpster on the side and an even bigger pile of boxes and wood next to it. It was just shadowed and jumbled enough to hide her from any curious muggles. She waited until a good amount of people passed by it and slipped into the alley as quickly and stealthily as Fred or George. Once behind the pile of junk, she touched her pocket, feeling to make sure her wand was still there, and turned on the spot.

She popped into Draco's small sitting room and was suddenly face to face with a snarling, burly man. Before she could even tense her muscles, her head exploded with pain and everything went black.

***

Draco was being followed, he was sure of it.

He had been in and out of several shops and a large man pursued him into each one. Casually, of course. And he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so on edge. He thought furiously about what to do. Obviously he would try to lose him, but he had to do it in a way that made the man think it was due to his own poor tracking skills.

Draco made his way from the cloth stand he was pretending to peruse and into a large crowd of people. The man tried to follow, but the crowd made it difficult. Then, just as another man ran into the brute and he turned to swear loudly at the poor muggle Draco side stepped gracefully into a clothing shop, grabbed the first thing he saw and walked to the back into the first open dressing room. He smiled to the attendant before shutting the door.

He was pleased to see the girl blush violently and twirl her hair, batting her dark eyelashes at him. He smirked as the door closed. He still knew how to makes girls weak at the knees.

He waited in the dressing room. Sitting on the small bench and twirled his wand in his hand. He wondered how long he should wait...he decided half an hour would be sufficient.

He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, but before he would get comfortable there was a knock on the door. He rolled his eyes.

"What?" He said irritably.

The door crashed open and the large man who had been following him on the street fell into the small changing room shoulders first. Draco was forced against the hard mirror on the far wall and barely had time to raise his leg to kick the man in the stomach.

The man fell against Draco, his full weight crushing him. Draco didn't even notice his wand had been knocked out of his hand until he raised it, empty, to curse the bastard. Roaring, he punched the man hard in the face. The man stumbled back, clutching his bleeding nose. Draco didn't recognize him, he realized with a jolt that he expected to. Thought, for half a second, it might be an old mate from Slytherin.

_Looks like Voldie found some new meat to carry out his dirty work, _he thought. Draco was fine with that. It meant they weren't familiar with him. He grinned cruelly. The man swung with a broad fist and Draco slid effortlessly away, snatched it and twisted until he heard a sickening crack. The man fell to his knees clutching his broken hand. It would be bad form to hit the man while he was down. Draco didn't even pause.

He didn't believe in the term "fighting dirty". You did what you needed to stay alive. With this thought, Draco kneed the man with as much force as he could in the tiny space square in the jaw. His head whipped back, eyes wide with shock and his now busted jaw flapping uselessly.

Faster than Draco though the stout man could move, especially considering his condition, his good hand shot out and snatched Draco's ankle, pulling hard. Much to Draco's irritation he tripped. He swore loudly and hit the floor, his hand thrown out instinctually, but carelessly, to brake his fall.

Pain- sharp, needling pain- shot up his arm and Draco crumpled, cradling his wrist. He almost laughed. What a pathetic sight they made, both of them crowding the tiny room with their blood and whimpering, both nursing injured hands.

Draco wasn't whimpering, of course. Malfoy's don't whimper. He pulled himself up just in time to see a second man enter the store, and by the looks of this one, his feline movements, and calculating gaze, he would be more trouble than his blubbering companion.

He was definitely not here for a new swimming costume- Draco realized as he noticed the contents of the store for the first time. It was full of swimming and beach gear.

Ignoring the large, groaning man sharing the dressing room with him, Draco searched wildly for his wand. It had to be here somewhere. Quick glances told him the second brute was only a meter or two away, though he was taking his sweet time.

Finally, with a small jubilant "ah ha!" Draco saw his wand sticking out from under the first man's backside. Grimacing, he pushed the man aside. He obliged, too dazed and in pain to notice anything beyond his own problems.

Draco reached for his wand and as he brushed the wooden tip a hand grabbed a fist full of his hair. Unfathomable fury, white and hot, hit Draco so hard he was almost blinded by it. Draco instinctively smashed his elbow into the second man's ribs as hard as he could.

It did nothing. Not a grunt, not a crack, nothing. Draco's elbow, however, did feel like it had been slammed into a brick wall.

The man pulled Draco to his feet- by the hair! Draco was going to kill him! That was the only fitting punishment. An agonizing and slow death!

Draco was on his feet and still rising. The man brought Draco to his toes and snarled in his face. His breath putrid from broken, rotting teeth.

"Your father says if you try to save her," He rumbled, his voice like stones grinding together, "He will kill you and keep her for the Dark Lord's pleasure before letting her die slowly."

That was the man's fatal mistake; threatening Ginny. All of his rage formed a pinpoint of precise purpose.

Draco reached his arms up and around the man's neck and pulled the heavy man over his shoulders to crash on his back in the middle of the store, crushing a small table full of sunscreen. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like a drug.

Draco wiped a hand across his mouth and stood, lips curled. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to be nonchalant, straightening it back into place. The man groaned but didn't stand. Draco looked around at the wide-eyed muggles and shrugged one shoulder at them as if to say, "Wasn't my fault they came after me."

Then he grabbed his wand and, with a last kick into the man's ribs, bolted out of the store.

***

Draco burst into the flat, wand raised, ready to kill if need be. But no one was there.

No one.

No sign Ginny had even been there. Draco looked wildly around the flat for some sign of her but he was too panicked to focus. How stupid had he been! He was so sure they wouldn't know about his second flat. So sure.

He swore to himself, mentally berating his idiotic idea that this place would be safe.

He'd grown soft over the last few days. Assuming Felix had been the only target. He should have asked more questions. Should have made Ginny stay hidden.

With a breath, he steadied himself on the small table in his kitchen and made himself concentrate. He couldn't help her with "should-haves". He looked around again and noticed smaller, yet important details this time.

He spotted now that the junk mail he regularly received had been pushed off the counter where he always set it in a neat pile and was strewn across the grimy floor and the window in the sitting room was ajar. It was never ajar. He always locked this place down like a dungeon.

Draco walked into the sitting room slowly, when his foot rolled over something. He stumbled and caught himself on the divider between the kitchen and the sitting room. Swearing, he kicked whatever he had tripped on and glared down at the culprit.

His heart froze.

Crouching, he picked up a slender wand. It was Ginny's, he would know it anywhere.

He tensed and searched the rest of the flat like a tightly coiled spring, both wands at the ready. Now he _knew_ she had been here.

They had taken Ginny. They had ambushed him in the middle of muggle Cairo. Were they getting desperate?

He sat on the moth eaten couch, mind racing.

Why would they want Ginny now? Days after taking Felix? Hell, why did they want the kid in the first place? It didn't make sense.

Draco remembered the message the man in the store had delivered. If Draco went after her and was caught she would face a fate worse than death and he would most likely be killed. His father had given that man the message. Draco's face grew cold, emotionless.

"Well, then, I guess it's time to go see my father." He said to the empty flat. Stuffing his and Ginny's wand into his pocket, he left with a singular purpose.

***

Felix was sitting out in the garden, staring out at nothing.

He was shocked. Completely floored by what his mother had told him.

She had said, since he was old enough now, she could tell him a great and frightening truth. Felix had been thrilled to think his mum thought he was old enough to be told something so secret that she had to put protection spells around the cottage.

She had leaned in close, conspiratorially, and said, "The Wizarding World is in grave danger, Felix. It is being threatened into hiding by muggles and muggle-borns. You are the only one who can save us." Felix had almost laughed, until he saw the look on his mothers face.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered.

"You are special. You must learn to control and destroy the muggles, or we will be destroyed." She looked frightened and desperate. He had never seen his mum like that.

Felix stared at the flowers as the wind blew them and made the petals wiggle and dance. He had thought his mum was playing a joke on him, but then he had a lesson about the best ways to control the muggles and muggle-borns. She told him that tomorrow they would go into a muggle town so he could practice.

Felix pulled out his armband and stared at it, willing words to appear and help him. He didn't know what to do.

He was afraid of what was going to happen tomorrow. The armband had told him not to believe what was told him. He loved him mum. Why would she lie to him? How was he living a lie? A thought came to him. Maybe this was, like, a dream! Maybe nothing here was real like a dream isn't real.

A caterpillar crawled over his foot. He watched it inch over his shoe when lines appeared on the side of the armband.

Felix gasped and eagerly watched the scratches turn into words.

_Your mother is not your mother. A man will come. He is not who he seems to be._

Felix frowned. That was just plain confusing. His mother wasn't his mother? What did that mean? And a man was coming? Someone who wasn't really who he was?

Felix scrunched up his face in confusion. Was this armband supposed to help him or make things more difficult? He tossed it down in the dirt, annoyed.

"Felix! Lunch!" His mother's voice actually sent a chill down his spine. That was weird. He loved him mummy. The words flashed through his mind. _Your mother is not your mother._

Maybe he was adopted. He laughed. No way. He stood, put the armband in his pocket, and ran into to cottage. His mother was already sitting and staring at her sandwich. She looked…disheveled.

"Hey mum, you okay?" He asked, sitting where his plate was set. Her head jerked up to look at him.

"Yes. Oh yes." She said in a clipped voice and went back to studying her sandwich. "The, uh, Wizarding World. I'm just so worried." She gave him a weak smile. "But you will save us." Felix wasn't hungry anymore. He poked his sandwich.

"Eat up." She said, a little more cheerfully. But Felix just picked crumbs off his bread and made a small pile in the middle of his plate. He mother didn't seem to notice.

"Can I be excused?" He asked and she nodded without looking at his uneaten lunch. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

What was going on?

***

Draco walked briskly into Sturgis Podmore's office, his face set with grim determination. The old man looked up at him and absently waved a hand for him to take a seat. Draco ignored it.

"I need your help, Podmore." He said strongly. Podmore peered at him tranquilly past his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Ah, I see." He said and clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. "And what do you need my help with?"

"Tell me about Nurmengard." He tossed the old piece of parchment with the floor plan to the old prison on the desk. "How do I get in? Are there any entrances that are rarely used?" Podmore stared at him calculatingly.

"Why do you wish to know this" He asked. Draco gripped the front of the desk and leaned in towards Podmore.

"Just tell me what I want to know." He growled. Podmore didn't seem perturbed by Draco's threatening tone.

"My boy, I couldn't tell you. But I have something that might help." He stood and shuffled over to a filing cabinet in the back corner of the jumbled room.

He pulled out a small roll of parchment thick with dust. He handed it to Draco who took it without looking at it.

"What's this?" He asked brusquely.

"It is another map of Nurmengard. It may help as a comparison. The added lines to this one," he tapped the one on his desk, "may or may not be on that one." Draco unrolled the parchment and then snatched the one off Podmore's desk and compared the two.

He was right. Some lines didn't match up. And there was a small entrance- if he was reading it right- on the far southwest side of the building. On the map he had taken off Pansy there was a dotted line across it. Guess he'd figure out what that meant when he got there.

"Thanks, Podmore." He said, still finding it odd to call him that.

"My pleasure." He said absently. "You're not going there, are you?" He asked in a slightly joking tone. Draco folded the parchments neatly and put them in the opposite pocket as the wands.

"Of course not, that would just be foolish." Draco winked, closing the door behind him.

***

The hallway was dark and damp and Blaise did _not_ like it. They had moved headquarters that morning. Why they were at Nurmengard, he could not begin to guess. It was a dank and musty place. It hadn't seen life for years and it showed.

He could almost feel the lives lost in this place embedded in the stones. Whispering to him. He shivered.

This place was creepy.

He wrapped his dark gray cloak around himself and continued towards his destination. He had been summoned by the Dark Lord. This made him nervous. Whenever the Dark Lord summoned someone personally, they seemed to disappear. He had no idea where Pansy was and the last thing she had said to him was that she had gotten a summons from the Dark Lord.

The summons had arrived the previous night, after he had almost dueled with Lucius. The Dark Lord had indeed not been happy when Malfoy had not been present at the last meeting. His careful planning had finally paid off and Malfoy had been taken off the duty of finding and eliminating Draco and Ginny and the task had been given to Blaise.

Now he had a chance to find them and warn them before anyone else could. They could go into hiding. It was a fine line he walked. He had to be convincing to the Dark Lord and keep his friends alive. He had been in charge of getting the boy away from Order's protection but he secretly had to keep him alive and relatively safe.

He hoped Mordecai was doing his job as well.

Blaise reached the pockmarked stone door sooner than he wished. He paused before going in and smoothed his face. Pushing open the door, he stepped into the room and faced the Dark Lord.

The handsome man was standing by the only window in the cell. A small and thin slit in the stonework. There was a narrow bed against the right wall and stinking straw in the opposite corner. Despite himself, Blaise wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The Dark Lord turned, his onyx hair gleaming in the sliver of sunlight shining from the window. He cocked his head to the side, considering Blaise. It felt as if his dark blue eyes bore into his soul. Blaise had to stop himself from swallowing.

"I have a task for you, Zabini." He said, his voice deep and smooth. Blaise knelt and bowed his head.

"Anything, my lord."

"Though, I need it done perfectly, without the possibility of mistakes." Blaise raised his head.

"My lord?" He said, not understanding. The Dark Lord raised his wand and pointed it at Blaise's chest.

"_Imperio!" _

He didn't even have time to register what was happening to him. A deep warmth filled Blaise and all thoughts, fears, and worries were lifted from his mind. Glorious emptiness pushed everything else away. He waited. Waited patiently for his master to speak.

"First, you will drink this." His master produced a vial with a very light, metallic green liquid. "You will go to a small cottage by the ocean," his master said, "and there you will find a woman who looks like Ginny Weasley. You will kill her. Only do so when her son can see you clearly. You will proclaim yourself as an Order member, and his father. This is what you shall say…" And his master told him exactly what to do and say and Blaise listened and knew he would obey.

In the far recesses of his mind, Blaise screamed.


	10. Torn to the bone

The night was dark, and the stars were covered by thick clouds. Felix couldn't sleep, his mind was thinking of too many things. He did not want tomorrow to come and if he slept, it would come faster. Tomorrow was the big day, as his mum said. Thinking about it made his skin crawl. He had issues with hurting living things. His mum said that was normal, but he should fight that feeling- pain was the only way of controlling mindless creatures, which was better for them in the long run.

Felix_ knew_ that wasn't right. At first he had tried to stop his mum when she would hurt a small animal, but he later found the animal's dead carcass in a trash bin behind the cottage. If he didn't interfere, they lived. He tried not to feel bad about it- his mum _told_ his it was okay- but he couldn't help it. Felix pushed the bad thoughts away and thought about what he was trying to do instead.

He was holding the armband loosely in his hand so he could feel if any more words carved themselves into it. This was his mission, the messages were important. He remembered the last thing it had said. _Your mother is not your mother. A man will come. He is not who he says he is. _

Or something like that.

He had started to focus on the second bit earlier that night. Felix decided it was way more confusing than the part about his mum, and that part was as cryptic as ancient Egyptian. He sighed for the millionth time that night. His eyes had gotten used to the darkness and he could see the small clump of trees on the far side of the garden swaying in the breeze. As he watched them, something within their branches moved, something that was definitely not a tree.

Felix sharpened his gaze and waited. There it was again. Something was definitely moving among the trees. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was big. Maybe an animal of some kind? Felix didn't know, but his heart started to beat a tattoo against his ribs. He watched as the figure crept across the garden, pausing to crouch behind a rock.

Felix climbed slowly out of bed and made his way to the window, staying low. He peeked over the ledge, but the shadowy figure was gone! He was no longer behind the rock! Felix's heart jumped into his throat. He crawled over to his door and reached up, turning the knob slowly and silently. When it was open, he dashed down the small hallway to his mother's room and almost fell into the room with the amount of force he used to push her door open.

"Mum!" He cried, trying to keep his voice soft and failing miserably. He ran to the side of her bed. She looked so peaceful, sleeping there with her hair like fire around her smooth face.

He shook her once. "Mum, wake up!" Her eyes shot open and her hand came up, wand already clutched in her hand, tense and confused.

"Mum," Felix said, breathlessly. "It's me." She didn't relax. She stared at him with a scary glint in her eyes. Felix backed away, but as he took his second step her eyes suddenly changed, her muscles relaxed as she finally recognized him.

"Felix? What...what do you want?" Felix was slightly taken aback by that, usually his mum would ask what was wrong right off the bat. He shook it off.

"There's someone outside, mum. They're creeping around the yard." He said, annoyed to find his voice was a bit shaky. His mum blinked a couple times before registering what he had told her.

"I'm sure it's nothing, go back to sleep." She said, lazily. Felix grabbed her arm and pulled with his whole body, he put everything he had into it- which wasn't much, he was pretty small for his age- everyone thought he was two years younger than he was.

His mum was forced to stand, though she was unbalanced and had to hold onto Felix for support. She seemed unable to fully wake. What was wrong with her?

"Come on, mum! Wake up, some weirdo is outside the house! You gotta blast him to smithereens!" He said, pulling his mother towards the door. She shook her head and swore loudly. She said a word he had never heard his mother say before, Uncle Ron said it sometimes when he didn't think Felix could hear, but never his mum. She was mumbling under her breath, Felix only made out a few words. Mostly a lot of "bloody," "gits" and other choice expletives.

They reached the front door and before Felix could devise a plan she flung it open, the cold night air making her thin nightgown press against her. She stepped unsteadily onto the porch and yelled out into the night.

"What?" She screamed. "What the hell do you bloody want?" She flung her arms out, wand limp in her hand.

"Mum, don't!" Felix said, pulling on his mum to come back inside before she got herself hurt...or worse.

"Get back inside, kid." She said, waving him off absently.

Kid?

Then something materialized out of the night. Well, maybe not materialized, but it seemed like it. He hadn't been there a second ago. A man was now only meters away from his mother, holding his wand steadily at her chest. Felix felt his throat tighten and every muscle tense. One thought was rolling around his head…

_A man will come, he is not who he says he is. _

_A man will come..._

The man was tall and pale with gleaming silver hair that was dancing in the night's icy wind. He seemed vaguely familiar, but before Felix could figure out why, his mum spoke.

"D-Draco?" She said, stuttering from the cold. Her arms dropped limply to her side and she leaned against the side of the cottage. "God, I thought it was the...someone else." She paused, her eyes trying to focus on him, but unable to.

"Whatdrya doin' here?" She said, slurring her words. The man-Draco?- stepped forward, not moving his wand an inch. Where had Felix heard that name before? Everything about this man- his hair, his eyes, his name, even the way he moved- was familiar, but his memory was so fuzzy...

"I finally found you. After years of hiding, I finally found you, Ginny!" He yelled over the wind, his eyes blazing with fury. His mum flinched as if he struck her.

"What?" She seemed confused, then, comprehension dawned on her face. "Ohh..." She actually touched her cheeks and looked at her hands curiously. This was weird.

"You thought you could hide from the Order! How foolish are you? You will never defeat us! We will make the muggles our army and rule the world!" His mum's mouth was slightly open, she scratched her nose.

"Are you crazy Draco? What are you-?" But he cut her off with a flick of his wand.

"The Order will prevail!" The man yelled, feverishly. Felix would have laughed except for the look on his mum's face. It was something he had never seen before. He didn't know what it was.

"The Order will never prevail." She spat, lips curling in a snarl. "The Order will crumble. The muggles will be destroyed. Really, Draco, I never expected this from you, even if you are a traitor."

"Felix should come with me! He is _my_ son, too!" Felix's mouth dropped open, his world froze. He couldn't move.

His mum huffed.

"Right. You haven't cared about that the last nine years of his life, why should you care now?" She sneered. Felix couldn't believe it. Wouldn't have believed it if his mother hadn't just confirmed it. He looked at the man as if for the first time. He saw now why the man was so familiar. He looked like Felix. He had the same silver hair, pale complexion and sharp features. Only Felix's eyes and nose were different, like his mum's. He was a perfect cross between the two adults.

This man was his father.

His _father! _

"Are you really my dad?"Felix blurted out before he could think, his voice hoarse_. _The man blinked.

"Yes. I am, Felix. You should come with me." He reached his empty hand towards Felix. The blonde haired boy shrank involuntarily behind his mother. She didn't seem to notice.

"He's not going anywhere with you, Drakie." She shooed him with her wand. "Go, get. You're disturbing my beauty sleep." She said, wearily. The man- Draco, his father- took another step closer.

"I am not leaving without my son." Felix felt his mother stiffen.

"Over my dead body." She said through gritted teeth. "He's _my _assignment." Felix didn't have time to register the strange last thing his mother said. Draco had a mad glint in his eye. Felix was the look his mother had in her eyes earlier- madness. Before Felix could blink or scream, the man yelled the two worst words in the world.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _A sharp green light blasted from his wand and hit his mother in the chest. Felix heard someone screaming, high and deafening. He ran to his mother's side and found that it was him who was screaming. At some point tears had started running down his face. Felix put his small, pale hand on his mother's face, willing her to blink, smile...anything! But she was gone.

Felix howled and buried his face in his mother's chest. Her brown eyes staring blankly at the dark night.

* * *

The large broken gates of Nurmengard loomed over Draco. Even with the Latin words unreadable, he could feel them pressing down on him.

_For the Greater Good._

Draco actually had to suppress a shudder. He could still vividly remember his father standing over the bodies of two muggles from a nearby village and saying to Draco without even a hint of remorse, "For the greater good, Draco. It's for the greater good. Always remember that." And he always had, just not in the way his father had wanted him to. Draco was never one for killing, though he seldom admitted that to many people. He enjoyed the reputation he had. He was an enigma. When he made threats he wanted people to believe he would carry them out- which he did, more often than not. But he avoided killing...if he could. It's just seemed so final and unnecessary.

He found he was trying to rationalize the reason to himself and stopped. He didn't need to explain himself to anyone, especially his own mind. Clenching his jaw he went through the gates of Nurmengard and onto the water parched grounds. What was left of the plant life crunched under his shoes. Draco didn't need to pull out the blueprint, he could see it clearly in his mind. He needed to go forward about twenty meters and then he should see a short wall. Well, he hoped it was a short wall. He would climb over the wall and on the other side would be a small opening in the battlement. Draco took a breath and made his way quickly and quietly through the dead, stunted trees.

It was early morning, maybe three or four and the sun wouldn't rise for about another two hours or so, no need to rush this. He had to remind himself that Ginny was probably fine. If they wanted her dead they wouldn't have bothered taking her. They needed her for something, his father needed her for something. Draco felt his fist clench and his adrenaline give a mighty surge. He had to watch what he thought. A single, stray, uncontrolled thought could cost him his or Ginny's life. He had been taught to control his feelings in battle.

Draco almost laughed at that. He had been taught but had ignored those lessons for years until he had to go into hiding. For years as a teenager he had let his emotions get the best of him, but thanks to the Dark Lord he had finally found a need to put those lessons into practice. Draco formed a room in his mind and shoved all feeling- anger, fear, trepidation, anxiety, hatred- into that room and locked the door. He pushed the room away into darkness and felt a cool void surround him. His purpose was a clear as the noonday sun.

He would find Ginny and Felix. Then he would kill his father.

* * *

Ginny woke to feel a throbbing pain in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut even more, hoping it was just a lingering part of a nightmare. The throbbing didn't go away, however, and so she opened her eyes. She stared at the wall in front of her for a few seconds, trying to figure out where she was and remember what had happened to get her here.

The wall was gray stone and looked old and crumbly. The mortar around the stones was chipping away and pockmarks made gouges in the rocks. Ginny sat up and found she was on the floor of what looked like a small cell. Suddenly, she put a hand to her stomach and bent over, dry heaving, nausea and vertigo slashing through her. It took a few minutes of heaving nothing but air before she could slump weakly against the wall. Tears were streaming down her face she was surprised to note, she didn't remember deciding to cry.

Where am I? She wondered, rubbing to stomach, willing it to settle. It didn't really matter, all she cared about was getting out and finding Felix. She didn't even bother feeling for her wand, she knew it would be gone. She remembered...a hospital room and Draco. She remembered kissing him. She felt her cheeks flush at the memory. She remembered wanting to do a lot more than just kiss him. Everything after that was hazy and disjointed. She didn't know why her head felt like a troll was trying to fight his way out or why she would be in a tiny stone room.

Ginny took a calming breath and stood, unsteadily at first, but with determination, and staring at a spot on the floor, she became less wobbly. Ginny walked slowly over to the wooden door. It was slatted with iron and looked just as old as the walls, though sturdy. There was small square hole in the middle at eye level. Ginny looked through, but to her great annoyance couldn't see anything. The corridor outside the cell was dark and though her eyes had adjusted to the dark all she could make out was more stone. There was a small window on one side of the hall, but there wasn't any moonlight to help her.

Ginny felt along the door gingerly, careful not to stick herself with a splinter. She found and iron ring on the right side that must have been the handle. She tugged on it with all the strength in her small frame, but that door didn't even creak. After ten minutes she slumped to the floor, defeated and worn out.

Before she could feel any more pity for herself, a horrible grating sound echoed through the hallway. Footsteps came closer and closer and Ginny pushed herself to stand, barely swaying, ignoring her pounding head.

"Wakey, wakey. Time for you to meet the master," a raspy voice said through the small hole in the door. She tried to see if she recognized it, but her brain wouldn't work.

"M-master?" She said feebly.

"That's right, darlin'." The voice rasped. Ginny shuddered. "He's going to have fun with you."

"What does your, uh, master want with me?" Ginny asked, surprised to hear her voice was calm and strong.

"I'd imagine he'd want to kill you."

"K-kill me?" She said, her hand shaking.

"Or something like it." His voice was deeper and laced with innuendo.

Ginny couldn't stop herself from letting out a small sob. She clasped her hands to her mouth to stop any other incriminating sounds from escaping.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're a filthy blood-traitor. You deserve to rot." He growled. Ginny tilted her head, finally hearing his voice. Raspy, deep but without any emotion. Even when threatening her.

"W-who are you?"

He didn't answer. Only silence came from the other side of the door, then footsteps back down the hallway. Then the scrapping came again, like a heavy door being pulled again a rock floor.

Ginny let out a frustrated sound and stamped her foot. There had to be a way out! Looking at the shadowed door, she started to formulate a plan.

* * *

Making his way through the dark trees, Mordecai- a name he took upon himself years ago- slowed when the child came into sight. This was wrong and that was why he stayed close to the Dark Lord, to protect those who could not protect themselves. He scowled, an expression he knew well.

Mordecai was only a few meters from the child, though he did not look up from the dead woman. The corpse on the ground barely registered to the dark man. As he came closer, the child's head snapped up and he protectively place his arms around the woman's chest.

"Get away!" He screeched, tears streaked his pale face and made his eyes red and swollen.

"Felix," Mordecai said strongly and the boy blinked in confusion.

"M-Mordecai?" He asked, wiping his nose. Mordecai crouched down and placed a hand on the child's shoulder. He considered what to say. The Dark Lord had given him explicit instructions and now he had to convince the boy to do the opposite.

"We must leave here." The boy's eyes grew fierce.

"No! I won't leave my mum." He said, teeth clenched. Mordecai saw the beginnings of more tears in the corner of the child's eyes, but the boy refused to let them fall.

"You must, you are not safe here."

"I don't care!" He yelled, the tears now falling unbidden. Mordecai watched as the boy tightened his jaw defiantly. "I'm not leaving my mum!" His little voice broke on the last word. Mordecai made a quick decision. Rash and perhaps foolish, but his mind was set.

"Where is the armband?" He asked, making it sound more like a demand. The child frowned, confusion plain on his face. Mordecai didn't have time for this, he scowled deeper.

"The armband," Mordecai hissed. The boy gave a jerk, and then pointed to the house. Mordecai felt his pulse slow. So the boy had found it. Good.

"The last message you received was what?"

"I-eh-what?"

"The message," his patience was running out.

"Uh…something about a man," the boy's face contorted into a sneer of rage, eyes unfocused. "That man who killed my m-mum."

Mordecai stood stiffly.

"That woman is _not_ your mother." But the boy didn't seem to hear, he cut off Mordecai before he could finish his sentence.

"Where did he go? That…that monster, D-Draco?" Mordecai considered the boy, knowing he could not lie to him.

"He went far from here. A dangerous place. No place for a boy. You must come with me, away from here. We must go into hiding."

"Where." The cold fury that iced the boys voice struck Mordecai hard, he stared, astounded. He remembered a time, almost fifteen years ago, when a different silver haired boy knelt beside a dead woman, a muggle, with the same look of fury. Mordecai could have been looking at a clone. He had no time for this. The boys mind was set.

"Nurmengard." The boy stood, taking something from his _mother_. Mordecai saw it was her wand, the man didn't try to remove it from the boy. He had a right to it.

"Take me to this place, Nurmengard. My _father_ will pay for this." The boy's mouth twisted with disgust on the word _father. _Mordecai gave a small nod. Who was he to try and change fate? He should have known better. He had learned that lesson years ago. But there was one thing Mordecai knew. He would not let this boy commit a murder in the name of a lie. He could not tell the boy the truth now, he would not listen, but he would do everything in his power to prevent any more damage coming to this child's soul.


	11. Delusions

The darkness that surrounded the quivering shape was not as consuming as the darkness that permeated his heart. The man huddled against a thick tree trunk, cloak gathered around him though he felt no warmth.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," he murmured, over and over. His mind told him he was perfectly _fine. _That there was nothing wrong, absolutely _nothing _wrong. So why did he feel like this?

Something wet and warm moved slowly down his forearm. He blinked and looked down, the moon was bright and the man could clearly see a dark, thick liquid stuck to his skin. Odd, he could have sworn that was blood. Where would blood have come from?

"Blaise." A deep, emotionless voice said above him. Blaise looked up with mild interest, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. He pushed a strand of silver hair from his face.

"Hm. Yes? May I help you?" The warm liquid continued to flow down his arm, quickly now. The large man looming above him growled deep in his throat, kneeling beside the trembling youth.

"What have you done to yourself?" The larger man asked under his breath. Blaise started humming.

Mordecai tore a piece of cloth from his cloak. Gingerly, he reached out and pulled Blaise's right hand away from his left arm. His fingers were black and caked with blood. He had dug into his own flesh and torn at it with unexpected vigor, the dark mark now a tattered mess.

Mordecai wrapped the cloth around Blaise's arm, just above the elbow and tied it tight. That should tourniquet the bleeding until Mordecai could find someone to heal him. Without his own wand and without any sign of Blaise's, they would just have to hope they could find a way out of here.

"Can you stay here without me for a moment?" Mordecai asked, glancing towards where the trees opened into a large garden. He had some unpleasant business to attend to.

"I should think so." Blaise replied breezily. Mordecai scowled and tore another strip of cloth, thicker this time. He didn't have time to ask permission, so he grabbed the other man's hands and thrust them behind his back, tying the fabric tight. Blaise clicked his tongue, perhaps in annoyance, perhaps in boredom.

"I will return shortly." Mordecai said, knowing Blaise wasn't paying attention. He was too distracted by his new bonds. By the time Mordecai returned, the polyjuice potion should have worn off. At least, he hoped that was the case, if not, they would have a problem.

Mordecai made his way through the trees, to the silver haired boy kneeling in the dirt beside a red-haired body of a woman.

* * *

Grinning over steepled fingers, Lucius listened to the blood-traitor whore scrape at the door of her prison. What did she hope to achieve, burrow a hole straight through wood? He sat cross-legged on a straight-backed wooden chair just outside her cell. He had entered as Greyback left an hour ago and had been listening with amusement at her pathetic attempts at escape.

He was starting to get bored now, however. She had been scraping at the door for a good ten minutes without pause. He had to admire her tenacity, however it was used.

He raised himself to his feet and languidly made his way to the wooden door.

"My little bird, pecking away won't gain you freedom," Lucius said liquidly. The scraping stopped.

"Who are you?" The blood-traitor demanded, voice of iron. Lucius let the edges of his mouth quirk into a small smile.

"Why, don't you recognize your child's grandfather when you hear him?"

"Lucius Malfoy." It wasn't a question, but a snarl from the other side of the door.

"Precisely. Now, let me see. What shall I do with a blood-traitorous whore like you?"

"Why don't you just kill me and be done with it?" The woman replied, her voice shaking. He had no doubt it was from anger, not fear. He chuckled wryly.

"That wouldn't be very _fun_ now, would it?" He pulled a thin iron key from a small pocket and placed it in the lock, turning slowly. He opened the door, prepared for a reckless escape attempt.

When the door was only a quarter of the way open, a thick iron bar came swinging down through the gap. Lucius turned in time for it to strike against the stone, making sparks. But that didn't stop it from bouncing off and smashing into his shoulder, producing a loud grunt from the silver-haired man. Before he could register the pain, a body slammed into his chest. He landed hard on his back, air forced roughly from his lungs.

A red-haired woman was sprawled on top of him, panting heavily, wild determination in her brown eyes. She raised her arm, surprisingly she had maintained her grip on the iron bar, but before she could bring it down, a red beam of light engulfed her hand. She screamed and crumpled, clutching her useless hand to her chest.

"Now, now darling, that's no way to treat your master, is it?" A frightening man advanced from down the hall, wand pointed at the woman's chest. Lucius pushed away from her, standing smoothly.

"Thank you, Greyback, but your assistance is not needed." The scarred man grunted, lips retracting like a rabid wolf.

"You promised I could have a go at her," he snarled. Lucius had to wrangle his fury into submission before speaking, his face only registering a tight-lipped, cold stare.

"And so you shall. Now leave us." Greyback hunched over as if to pounce, but instead he shuffled out and closed the second door loudly. Lucius looked back down at the groaning woman on the grimy floor. He assumed a stunning spell had hit her hand; those could be painful if ill aimed.

She looked up at him, fire raging in her eyes. Before she could speak or move, Lucius pulled his wand from his pocket and aimed it at her heart.

"_Petrificus Totalus," _he murmured and her body went rigged. Lucius _tsk_ed as he crouched a few feet from her. His sharp, mercury eyes met her burning russet ones.

"I have plans for you. I expect them to be very entertaining. For you, however, they may be…let's see, what's the word I'm looking for?" He leaned forward, his nose almost brushing hers.

"Ah yes, horrifying." He stroked two fingers down her cheek, as they came to her jaw, he drew back and struck her hard, fist closed. Before she had time to recover from the shock of being hit in the eye, Lucius grabbed her chin and yanked her to her feet violently.

"Listen closely, you blood-traitorous whore, I am going to use you until I become bored. And for your sake, you better hope that never happens because when it does, my old friend Fenrir Greyback will take his turn. And trust me, you will beg for death when that happens." Lucius smiled, it didn't touch his eyes.

"I want to see for myself why my _son_ found you so tempting." The woman's eyes were wide, one was turning a nasty shade of purple.

"Until then," and he leaned in, breath heavy, and kissed her, thrusting his tongue roughly between her protesting lips. When he broke free, he tasted blood. She had bit him. He almost laughed. This was indeed going to be entertaining.

Lucius pointed his wand at the cell door, blasted it open and threw her inside. She stumbled a few steps before falling to the hard stone floor. She spat and rubbed her mouth with her good hand, looking at him with that same hatred and- was that fear? Yes, fear was seeping into the hatred.

He waved his wand and the large door slammed shut. Without another word, he turned and strolled out of the musty hallway, leaving her alone in the darkness.

* * *

Felix barely noticed the icy air rushing past him. He clung to Mordecai's back, wand tight in his grip. He felt like his insides had been replaced with molten lava, all roiling and burning, leaving nothing but charred ash.

He couldn't get the image of the tall man, smiling maniacally over his mother's body, out of his head. Everywhere he looked, there he was, with that horrible smile.

_My father…_

"Felix, there is much I must tell you," the deep rumble of Mordecai's voice vibrated through the boy's body. This was not the first time he had said this to Felix, but he was in no mood to listen to stories.

"I don't care." The boy said flatly.

"You must. Felix, that man, the one you believe to be your father, is _not_ your father." Before he could continue, Felix let out a gut-wrenching roar. It was surprisingly strong from such a small and young boy.

"I know he was my father. I _know _it!" Felix yelled. There was a groan from behind him, Felix ignored it. He knew that man had been telling the truth, not only did he look just like Felix, but his mother had confirmed it.

Mordecai made a frustrated sound.

"He was an imposter. Your father does indeed _look_ like that, but that was not him." Felix couldn't help but give a chilly laugh.

"Okay, whatever that means." There was another groan from behind Felix. "What is he doing here again?" He turned and looked at the dark young man who was barely conscious on the broomstick hovering behind theirs.

"Felix you must understand this before we arrive at Nurmengard. That man was not your father. He used a potion to make himself appear as your father so he could turn you against your own family." But Felix was only half listening; he was watching the man on the other broom curiously. He was asleep, or at least unconscious, and would groan or grunt occasionally.

"He's Blaise something? Right?" Felix asked, poking the top of the man's head. Mordecai made a vexed sound.

"Zabini. He will help us find your mother." Felix flinched as if he had been hit.

"My mother is dead." He had to force his voice to stay steady. He had to be strong.

"No, she is not! Listen to me, boy. That woman was not your mother. As I told you before, she was an imposter." Felix thought Mordecai would have hit something if they weren't a hundred feet in the air.

A small worm of hope started boring through his chest. He promptly squashed it. If it wasn't true, it would be like she died all over again. Felix had to keep telling himself his mother was dead. He had to be brave, like she would have wanted, and kill her murderer.

"Are you listening to me, boy?" Mordecai growled. Felix thought hastily, trying to remember what Mordecai had been saying. His brow furrowed.

"Voldie's fault?" He asked, doubting the large man.

"Yes, he planned this in order to bait you into a mistake. Do not give in to his wishes. When we reach our destination, let me do the killing."

Hot anger boiled in Felix's stomach once again, but he pushed it away. He wasn't a git, he knew he had no way of killing…his father.

A plan. He needed a plan.

Felix glanced at his mother's wand protruding from Mordecai's pocket. He had no idea if he could even work that thing, but it was his only hope for the moment. Maybe since he wanted it to work more than anything, it would. He knew the words at least. Having just heard them said to his mother.

Felix allowed a small smile to form on his lips.

* * *

Draco had heard a scream. He didn't know if it was Ginny or another prisoner held in this hellhole, but he didn't care. He made his way as fast as he could down the dark, cold hallways. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed to hear that scream again. There were too many possible paths to take, he didn't know if he was wandering away from Ginny or closer.

Draco let out a furious growl, putting his hands behind his head and lacing his fingers together. Before he could figure out what to do, he heard footsteps coming for the corridor on the left. Draco felt his pulse quicken. He looked down the way he had just come and ran to the first door on the right.

It was locked.

Draco cursed under his breath and went to the next door down. Locked. Just as he pulled on the third locked door a man rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Draco turned and clenched his fists. He would have rather seen Lord Voldemort than the man standing in front of him now.

Lucius Malfoy stood regally straight, one eyebrow raised, but unsurprised. Oddly unsurprised.

"Really, Zabini. Trying to unhinge me? It will take more than that, I'm afraid." He sauntered forward, glancing casually up and down Draco, who stood stalk still and as tense as a coiled cobra. Lucius walked past him with a derisive snort.

"I assume everything went to plan then? If you're back so soon." He asked.

Draco swallowed and was grateful, not for the first time, that he had such control over showing emotion on his face. Lucius only stared contentiously. He was waiting for a response, Draco realized.

"Uh…yes. The plan went off without a hitch," Draco said, _what plan?_

"Good, the Dark Lord will be pleased. By now the child should be almost here, excellent."

Draco stiffened at the mention of a child- it had to be Felix. Who was bringing Felix here? His captors? For what purpose?

"Have I missed anything crucial?" It was the best questions he could come up with that wouldn't seem odd. Lucius scoffed.

"Nothing that concerns _you, _Zabini," he licked his lips. "Only a bit of fun," and he stalked off the way Draco has just come. Draco counted to fifty before letting out a growl of hatred. Just being in the same vicinity as that man made Draco's blood boil. He felt something sticky in his hands. Opening him palms he saw small pools of blood forming where his nails had punctured his skin. He almost laughed.

Then his mind put the pieces together. Zabini obviously polyjuicing into him, Ginny being kidnapped, Felix coming to Nurmengard, Lucius acting like he had…it all centered around Felix. Voldemort needed his son and he needed the boy to be on his side...the pieces clicked. Felix had to kill Draco- that was the only way.

He ran down the corridor where Lucius has just come and came to a thick door. He pried it open with the gallons of adrenaline pumping through his body and found a second corridor with a second door at the far end.

"Ginny!" He yelled, unable to stop himself. He ran and yelled her name, "Ginny! Are you there? Gin!"

"D-Draco?" A shaky voice answered. Draco felt his heart stop. He almost slammed into the door.

"Gin...Ginny, are you alright?"

"I'm okay- fine, I'm fine. How did you find me?"He ignored the question and started looking for a way to free her.

Draco swore loudly when he saw the large lock on the front of the door.

"What?" Ginny asked alarmed. Draco looked around the hallway and found a metal bar- it would have to do. He jammed it into the lock and twisted as hard as he could. It didn't budge. He thought of Felix, his son, probably scared out of his mind. He thought of Ginny, his love that he thought he had lost forever. He would _not_ loose her again! Yelling, he put all of his body weight onto the metal bar…

_SNAP!_

Panting, Draco stared triumphantly at the broken lock. Small beads of sweat ran down his temples from the strain. He smirked.

"Never had a chance." He thrust open the door and a red-haired blur flew at him. His lips met Ginny's with the full force of a train and they kissed violently for a long moment. Finally, Draco pushed her away softly. He took in the large purple bruise around her eye and scowled. He touched it gently.

"Who did this to you?" He demanded already knowing the answer, his blood pounding in his ears, but Ginny just waved her hand dismissively.

"No one, I did it to myself. Clumsy me."

"Don't lie to me, Ginny," Draco in a low, threatening voice. Ginny gave him a level look.

"I'm not," she said, then pushed past him down the hall. "We're wasting time, is Felix here?"

"No, but I think he will be," he answered slowly, feeling his adrenaline ebb away. He did not want to change the subject, but Ginny was right. They were wasting time asking questions that could be taken care of later. She turned towards him, a look on her face that could crumble a rock to pieces. Draco knew that look, it had been years since he had seen it, but it was etched into his memory. It was the look she had given him right before he had left. She had demanded that he stay and threatened that if he didn't she would force herself to forget him. He had taken that chance in order to protect her.

"I will find my...our...son and I will kill Tom Riddle for taking him from me."


End file.
